Shattered Fate
by Illuviar
Summary: The year is 2175 and the galaxy is at peace. In the Terminus Systems, Battarian sponsored pirates gather, willing to test the resolve and capabilities of the System Alliance. At a X-COM facility, the last surviving soldier from the last war has been released from stasis, ready to be healed. Meanwhile the Ethereals plot in the shadows beyond the Relay Network and Nazara awakens...
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **AN: This part was cleaned by Storm Lord on the Space Battle's forums! Thank you very much!**

 **Shattered Fate**

 **Prologue: Brand new world**

 **Part 1. The end of the line**

* * *

 **23:21 PM CET ( Central European Time), 21 July 2025 AD  
Raptor flight en route to Berlin  
Germany  
Earth  
Sol System**

Being strapped into a seat in an Avenger Assault transport, with eleven other people, was not my idea for a fun ride. Considering how my last few months went, that minor irritation was barely a footnote, though it was almost enough to keep my mind distracted. Because, to be honest I was fucking terrified and was barely able to stop my body from shaking too much.

I'm not the bravest fella around, all right? One might think that I would have grown accustomed to this madness by now. To make things clear – I was flying with a band of the best killers humanity has ever produced on my merry way to Berlin, where a bunch of aliens were throwing a party. For all I know the fucking Ethereal in command of the mess in the city had a bloody birthday and decided to invite all his buddies. You know how it is – Mutons and Heavy Floaters to provide the fireworks, Sectoids mind controlling the locals, and a bunch of Chryssalids invited to an all you can eat buffet. Oh, there were a few Cyberdiscs flying around too, which were cheerfully blowing up civies.

Yeah, you got that right I am in the God forsaken X-COM universe, or at least one of its iterations. One evening I went to sleep and then I awoke strapped to an alien surgery. What followed were the worst couple of weeks in my life, something I'm not going into detail right now. According to the shrinks in the base I am suppressing most of those memories really well. A pretty bad thing as far as they are concerned.

Well fuck them. What happened those days is not something I want to dwell on or remember if I am given a choice. Besides as far as mental health goes I'm not screwed any worse than the rest of the X-COM operatives that have seen more than couple of missions. I've participated in ten deployments in the last two months, which was possible because the docs managed to put me more or less together after my ordeal in that damned alien base.

Now how you get an untrained civilian like myself, not to mention that I was a lot overweight and in pretty bad shape before the x-rays got their sticky fingers on me, well it is the same reason why I am participating in this particular mission as well. Psionics. Neither I or the scientist in the main base (despite all the test short of vivisection they did on me) know if I was born that way or it is something the aliens did to me, but right now I'm one of the few precious psionics that X-COM has. Considering how often either Sectoid Commanders or fucking Ethereals were encountered in the field, my deployment had been easily authorized. It was done because even if I royally screwed up in the field, it was unlikely that I would cause the death of more operatives that would die either way if they didn't have psionic support.

Did I mentioned that the Gift around here made what I saw in the games look like a child's play?

For example, take the first time I actually used my new powers. It was during the assault by everyone's favorite maniacs, on the base where I was experimented on. A stray shot by a panicked Sectoid totaled the device which was containing my powers. Yeah, I was strapped into a stasis pod, unable to do anything but feel what the bastards did to me. For fucking weeks!

Incidentally, that gave me a great view of the final chapter of the X-COM assault on the facility. The surviving members of the strike team showed me that the damn aliens can be killed. I saw both Muttons and heavy armored humans die under barrages of plasma and raw psionic powers. Then whatever was keeping my own Gift in check was shredded by that panicked little bastard.

Then my world went red with fury. They tell me that I went berserk and tore apart the base commander who was in the process of moping the floor with the surviving X-COM operatives.

The next time I actually used my Gift in anger was a month later when there was an alien retaliation targeted at the facility where I was still recovering. I had to help stop the alien bastards from killing or worse, taking me alive. So I assisted the base security, while exploring my gift. Let me tell you, it wasn't fun. At all.

At the time I really didn't think about the other people in the base. I fought solely to keep myself out the Ethereals hands. To blame me or not for being that selfish after what those things did to me is for you to decide. I don't care. But I digress. That is a story for another time (read never if I am able to repress those memories outside of the accursed nightmares).

Where was I? Oh, yeah. Operation "Shattered dreams". My eleventh official mission as an X-COM operative. You see, an hour ago the x-rays stated a Terror raid in Berlin. An Ethereal and at least four Sectoid commanders were spotted on various cameras before the feed was jammed. That is why I was ordered to join the strike team sent to clear their clocks. Three transports, thirty six operatives and six "ODIN" HWPs,(basically small floating tanks loaded with plasma cannon and heavy lasers) escorted by a wing of Firestorm fighters. We were going in to reinforce the elements of 1st Panzer-grenadier division which were protecting the city and hunt down the aliens. My job was to deal with the enemy psionics while the rest of the troops eliminated the never sufficiently damned Chryssalids. Preferably, before those menaces turned the whole city in monster infested graveyard.

So here I was, a minute away from the insertion point. My immediate boss, Colonel Karen "Ghost" Travis patted my shoulder and nodded her helmet encased head my way. Oddly enough, the gesture helped me to calm down. Considering the kind of hell we were about to walk in, the woman clad in "Titan" power armor had a reassuring effect on me. I nodded in answer and re-checked my gear for a hundredth time. Laser rifle and pistol, two alien grenades, four flash-bangs and a spare med-kit. According to the HUD of my helmet everything was all right with my experimental Psionic armor. (Don't get me started on the "joy" I was in about field testing the latest piece of equipment cooked up by our illustrious R&D department. Last week a light blaster launcher blew up when a demo specialist tried to shoot at a rampaging Sectopod. There was nothing left of the poor bastard when his spare ammo detonated too. I was "fortunate enough" to be trying on the bloody armor when the alarm sounded. Considering that it took more than an hour for the prototype to be fitted on me, there was not enough time to change in regular power armor when the presence of enemy psionic troops was confirmed.)

"Ten seconds. Brace yourselves." The all too cheerful voice of our pilot interrupted my musings.

"Do things by the numbers and keep your heads down. I want you all in one piece after we finish our sightseeing trip." The pilot's announcement was followed by the synthetically distorted voice of the Colonel.

"Yes, mother." Sergeant James "Angel" Valdes, our combat medic, quipped. This got few chuckles from the veterans.

The Avenger suddenly lurched when coming to a sudden halt over our designated LZ. Obviously the internal dampeners of the bird had some kinks left to straighten out. Ironically, during our hypersonic flight, the system worked like a charm – I did not feel any of the acceleration.

According to the briefing, we were to deploy in a small park in which local troops were dug in and still holding, link with their commander, get the latest Intel on the situation and proceed from there. Well the plan went pear shaped the moment the ramp opened. One of the our FNG, who were placed strategically next to the exit got a face full of plasma. All because a damn drone had evaded the avenger's sensors only to appear when we were about to deploy. A moment later the damn bot was speared by crimson lance by the "ODIN" closest to the ramp. The hover tank exited, its cameras and sensors scanning for more targets. It was followed by the rest of "Crimson" squad, which was the Colonel's own unit.

Let me tell you, she wasn't happy to be baby-sitting a couple of greenhorns while two of her veterans were stuck in the hospital after her last op.

One less of the FNG's now…

His death should have shocked me. Perhaps kindled some other reaction than a simple shrug.

It would have before my first mission, when we lost seven of the ten men and women we went in with. Instead none of us paid much attention to the dead woman and we simply continued with our deployment.

The second six man group was myself and my designated minders for this op. As you could imagine, the only reason I lived long enough to become somewhat competent was the Commander's decision to sent me out with a bodyguard detail which included some of the meanest bastards X-COM had to offer. Not that he really had much of a choice. At the time I was one of the very few human psionic who could use the Gift in combat. Even now, months later there were only six of us with enough grasp of this power so it could be our primary weapon in combat.

Four of us were still alive and out of the hospital right now. And lucky me – I was alone in the European theater.

When we disembarked, the pilots lost no time in getting the Avenger to safety, the lucky bastards. Even before the ramp closed and our ride could start pulling out, we were dispersing and taking what little cover we could find in the immediate vicinity. The closet trees were twenty meters away with only the HWPs and a pile of sand bags for protection. Thanks to a heavy jamming in the area, which indicated that at least couple of cyberdiscks or a Sectopod were around, we had lost contact with the detachment securing the LZ. Until a few minutes ago we had live satellite feed of the area and it was still secure. Then the we lost our eyes in the sky when the sat was blown up by an UFO on its way out of the atmosphere. The next bird would be on station in another four minutes or so.

Needless to say, we were not amused about deploying in a potentially hostile drop zone.

If we had any notions that we might be safe for the moment, that damn drone nothwinstanding, it was immediately rebuffed. Far to the left, behind a bunch of trees, we could hear gunfire, angry bellows from Mutons and the distinctive sounds of their favorite heavy plasma rifles, which was heard over the familiar retorts of firearms.

The rest of the park was quiet. Too quiet. Thanks to the night vision systems integrated into our helmets (reverse engineered from alien samples) we could see as well as at high noon. There were corpses strewn near the treeline. They did not bore the cauterized wounds caused by plasma weapons. Instead the corpses were riddled with bullet wounds and some were torn apart in the distinctive pattern of high powered psionics.

"Well shit." I muttered. At out current position we were sitting ducks. That was obvious to the Colonel, who looked at me. I shook my head. I could detect nothing passively. Going active with my psionics would light me up like a beacon for the most enemies in the area, who could at least sense active uses of the Gift (after all it was the primary way the Ethereals communicated with their slaves). Travis lost no time in snapping orders.

"Pop smoke and advance to the treeline to the right. Crimson fall in. Hammer cover Dragon". (If you are wondering that's my call sign. Don't ask.) She chose that direction because the cover was much closer. There were about seventy meter to the trees behind which the German soldiers were fighting. Too much open ground to risk it when the situation smelled like a trap.

Moment later the grenades were on their way. They exploded releasing crimson smoke mixed with alloy particles which disrupted alien sensors in the affected area. Made it hard for Mark I and II eye too.

The Colonel and her squad dashed, moving behind the mobile cover provided by "Odin 1". The other HWP was standing on overwatch, covering our rear.

When they were halfway through a group of four combat drones appeared over the tree crowns. They were immediately engaged by the second "ODIN" which had clear line of fire. Me and my minders joined in a second later. By that time two of the machines were blasted by laser fire and the third was attempting to evade plasma cannon shots. The ordinance they sent our way splashed on the armor of the vehicle dealing superficial damage. They managed only a single shot apiece before our concentrated fire blew them out of the sky. Luckily their software prioritized the highest threat as a target, keeping us squishy humans safe.

However, that was just the beginning. The frighteningly familiar whining sound of Cyberdisks hover systems rend the night. Three of those appeared from thin air in front of "Crimson" who had almost reached the treeline. The bastards had fitted those machines with active camouflage!

"Sheize!" One of my minders cursed a moment before we opened fire.

What followed was a short and brutal firefight. The reasons why anyone from the Colonel's team made it, considering they were at point blank range with the alien machines were twofold. Small degrading of the targeting sensors caused by the witches brew that was the contents of our smoke grenades and the disks targeting priorities. Naturally they decided that the "ODIN" was the primary threat and two of them concentrated fire on it. Lasers speared one of the alien machines and plasma raced in both directions. Within seconds our HWP was overwhelmed but the loyal machine managed to take one of its enemy counterparts to hell.

"Truck", a Nigerian, mountain of a man, who was Crimson's demo expert cut loose with his plasma cannon at the Cyberdisk to the right. The superheated gas caved the armor of the alien construct. The machine exploded in a spectacular way a moment later but not before returning fire with dual bolts of golder energy. The anti-vehicle ordinance had no trouble with the power armor of T'Kou Mobuto and blew him in two at the waist. Meanwhile, all of us were busy pumping the last machine chock full with plasma and laser fire. It spun in place, spreading the damage all over its frame and buying itself the extra second it needed to threw a grenade at the closest squad. Crimson had no time to react, not at that range. The glowing sphere flew their way and hit Angel in the torso, before detonating. Valdes took the brunt of the explosion and shielded the rest of the team. His mangled corpse was thrown back and struck the Colonel who was lining another shot with her sniper. For the moment the boss and the rest of her team were down for the count, dazzled by the explosion. At least the last Cyberdisk had taken enough damage to give an electronic whine and fall to the ground in a heap of smoking metal.

Naturally our situation became worse. It always does when the fucking aliens are out in force. The next wave hit us while the last explosion was still echoing. A flight of ten heavy floaters jumped over the treeline and charged us. One was promptly taken out with a head-shot by my team\s sniper, "Reaper", who was taken position behind the remaining HWP. The said "ODIN" was methodically taking apart the incoming enemies, but it took concentrated firepower to kill these armored foes. Or one straight hit from its heavy cannon. The rest of us joined in the fun, firing controlled bursts of lasers and plasma.

Half of our number were down by now but I still kept my psionics in reserve. The current enemy tactics was too similar for comfort to the way the other two of our psi troopers were taken down in previous bastards had thrown waves of their units at us while their Ethereal commanders were waiting for our operatives to reveal themselves and had struck while they were distracted. Granted it was expensive tactic, but when they had the bodies to spent it worked. Besides when you take into account that our combat capable psi troopers could be counted on the fingers of one hand this was a sound strategic action on their part. Especially considering what someone with my powers could do when there was no enemy psi operative to counter me.

That was kind of the problem, for all of my raw power I was relatively in-expierenced in psionc combat. The one time I was caught off guard a bloody Sectoid commander almost did me in. Right now, in Berlin, Intel had confirmed four of the critters and a fucking Ethereal on the ground. If that bastard was here and struck me while I was too busy throwing psi powers at the floaters we were all dead.

The silver lining of our situation was that those flying bastards were not accurate while on the move and evading return fire. Only couple of glancing hits connected with one of my bodyguards and his armor shrugged it off with only a small rend left by the plasma. I took aim at a floater nobody was shooting at and pressed the trigger. A crimson lance of coherent light carved its armor plate. I held down the trigger until my weapon whined in protest, while silently thanking the genetic enhancements that gave me a fighting chance. My improved sight and reaction times were proving to be a lifesaver.

The continues laser assault made short work of the armor and reached the juicy innards of the creature. Apparently I got lucky and scored a critical hit in its propulsion system. It blew up which detonated the grenades he was loaded with. The ensuring chain reaction took out another of the bastards, who had strayed too close to my target in his attempts to evade the fire of my teammates. Soon the floaters were down for the count and the Colonel and her remaining two troopers were stirring, slowly coming back to their senses. However we were in no position to cheer. With angry roars, two Berserkers, clad in their distinctive crimson armor, charged from the left. Behind them, a pair of Mutons laid down a barrage of suppressive fire. And the gunfire of the Germans was conspicuous in its absence.

Reaper threw himself to the ground barely dodging plasma bolts. The "ODIN" whirled around and flew over the prone sniper. Its plasma cannon roared and struck the leading Berserker, staggering him. Meanwhile its laser weapons were shooting all over the alien's buddy, leaving deep rends in his armor. However that didn't stop the x-ray. It simply roared in fury and continued its charge. Before our flying tank could shoot again with its primary weapon a purple sphere flew between the Mutons and struck it just below the cannon. It expanded to a meter in diameter and then imploded tearing a big piece of the "ODIN" which it collapsed on itself. The gutted tank fell to the ground.

This little demonstration of power could be used as an example why I was considered a critical asset. That trick was barely scratching the surface of what a psionic could do. Compared to the real thing, the Gift, in the way portrayed in the games I knew was a child's play. Or Sectoid for that matter. What I and the Ethereals could do... It was plain scary. And when all is said and done I was little more than a beginner who had a lot of raw power and lacked the knowledge to unlock its true potential.

Unfortunately for the alien bastards the hide and seek was over. With a thought I removed the mental blocks chaining my powers. I barely noticed how Reaper blew off the brains of the second Berserker while the rest of the squad were taking potshots at the mutons. I grinned madly as I felt the rush of power that greeted me, made ever sweeter and more potent by psi-amps integrated into my armor. Purple energy cracked all over my body, forming a hazy aura around me. I concentrated on the area from which the psionic attack had came and unleashed my power. I could sense the location of the Ethereal, as if I was looking at him from a birds point of view. The tree behind which he was taking cover was ghostly, transparent to my eyes. I idly wondered if that is the way superman felt when using his x-ray vision.

Dismissing the errant thought as fast as it came, I focused my attention on the alien leader. I could feel his surprise and shock. He did not expect for a human to wait this long before acting, obviously assuming that our psi support was with one of the other X-COM units. He frantically tried to reach for more of his power but it was far too late.

I struck, wielding my psionics like an assassins dagger and plunged it deep into his mind. He screamed like a damned soul in the depths of hell as his consciousness shattered like a fragile crystal struck by sledgehammer. I felt as his mind blinked out and released him from my psionic grasp. He, while technically alive was finished. His body slowly toppled to the ground. His unseeing eyes stared at the sky while drool leaked from his open mouth. I smiled with satisfaction. Another of those bastards was dealt with once and for all.

Then my attention came back to the Mutons who were still alive and sniping my squad. It was trivial thing to take control of the dim mind of the one to the right. Without a sound, my puppet made of flesh and bones turned his weapon at his comrade and emptied the clip at his brother in arms. I channeled more power in the mind control and the alien fell to the ground when I fried his brain.

I roared as searing pain gripped my left shoulder. It was like a liquid metal flowed in my veins.

How true it was. I was spun in place by the kinetic force of a plasma bolt as my shoulder was burned by the liquified alloy of my armor. A second shot missed my head by centimeters. I was caught off guard by the most glaring weakness of my powers. I could not multitask while using my psionc abilities. If they hadn't my full concentration, my attacks dissipated. The scientist back at the base believed that it was matter of mind discipline and training. The lessons in meditation I was offered and took didn't help much and there obviously was no one who was able to train me. In contrast, the some of the Ethereals could concentrate on multiple targets while using their psionic abilities and usually kept their situation awareness. The only live capture we had of their kind was still in interrogation and had not cracked, which only made our resident mad doctor more determined. So I was left to stumble in the dark.

That was a problem that just came home to roost with vengeance.

I gritted my teeth and concentrated. A purple wall of energy formed between me and the direction from which the attacks came. The next shot splashed on it harmlessly and I looked at its source. The Colonel was on her knees and her sniper was pointed my way. I could see a line of psionic energy stretching from the treeline to her head.

Mind control.

The same was happening to her two subordinates who were still stunned and were struggling to bring their weapons to bear. The God damned Sectoid commanders. Was it coincidence or did the aliens use one of their ruling caste as a bait for me? I could sense the Ethereal's surprise while he died. So probably a case of Murphy screwing with us.

The result was the same anyway.

I felt the an alien clawing at my mind with his powers. The Colonel shot at me again and again. All I could do was to desperately hold up my barrier while the little fucker was assaulting my mind. As I said, I suck at multitasking when my Gift is concerned. And my bodyguards? They were panicking and firing wildly in all directions. The X-Rays had hit them with a terror wave and succeeded. No help there. And possibly a few shots with my name were about to came from them too.

"Damn..." I spat tiredly. The mental assault was taking its toll. I was out of good options.

The moment after the next shot from the Colonel hit my barrier I dropped it and with a wordless scream reached as deep into the intangible source of my psionic power as possible. And then I went even deeper, thanks to the armor I wore. The time slowed to a crawl as my brain started working faster than should be humanly possible. I could feel warm liquid leaking from my nose and ears but didn't care. I ignored the way my vision turned pink and then red. There was only my power. A whole ocean of it, more than I could channel in a thousand lifetimes of constant combat.

My attention went to the Sectoid commanders. They were blazing like a signal beacons in the night. I could feel my psionc power screaming in rage like a living thing. I reached for them and touched them with my Gift. My power blazed like a newborn sun. They glowed from within and went up in flames before managing to even scream. The night was lit up by fires so intense that the Sectoids were rendered to ash. I felt them go into the long night and tried to smile. My head ached dully and I was loosing the concentration needed to use my powers. The ocean of energy I had touched was slipping from my shaky grasp.

Captain Travis. My mind strayed to her. I could feel the futile desperation with which she had fought the mind control. The last command given to her by the fucking alien, which she and her body had no choice but to obey. I felt her index finger squeezing the trigger of her sniper, while my head was in the center of her scope. She screamed in her mind as the weapon buckled against her shoulder.  
A bolt of plasma exited the barrel of her sniper and headed my way. I tried to move or raise another barrier. My body refused to bulge. The trickle of psionic power I could still use hurried to obey, but I knew it won't be nearly enough. Not against a sniper shot.

At the same time I was still touching the colonel's mind. Could hear her screaming. The shot was coming at me slowly as if it was taunting my futile attempt to deflect it.

"It's not your fault, Karin." I sent through our unexpected connection. I sensed her surprise at hearing my words. "And thank you. For everything..." I trailed off.

The world went green.

* * *

 **Part 2. Rebirth**

 **12:33 PM, 1 December 2175 AD**  
 **X-COM Station "Rome"**  
 **High Orbit over Venus**  
 **Sol System**

I floated in nothingness. Endless void. It was a sweet oblivion and I was at peace. I could stay here forever and be content. No more experiments, pain and nightmares. No more war and loss in a world that was not even my own. There was no sense for time. An endless second? Centuries? Millennia?

"It's been a long time. Besides in here the concept of time is quite subjective." A motherly female voice awoke me from my slumber. I opened my eyes and turned in the direction of the sound. A woman with a soft eyes and beautiful, ageless face floated in the aether. She had striking waist long, black hair. Her tasteful cocktail dress in pastel green matched the color of her eyes.

"What?" That was my eloquent response. I was surprised that someone was here to interrupt my rest. My brain was still slumbering.

She laughed merrily. I couldn't help it. The sound immediately put me at ease. The woman waved her right arm and we were sitting on comfortable armchairs. I had a steaming cup of coffee in my arms. Its aroma was invigorating. I carefully took a sip from the cup and sighed in content. It was the best thing I've ever tasted.

"I've forgotten that some of you flesh and blood folks need something to kick start your system in the morning." Her words implied that she was something else. "Even if it's an illusion of the mind."

I looked at her with curiosity. The lethargy was quickly leaving my body and my brain was starting to work properly. I really looked at her, this time trying to use my psionics.

They didn't respond.

She winked at me with amused smile on her face. "Nope. We don't want you to scramble this mind of yours further. Getting shot in the head was bad enough."

"That I remember. I think..." I trailed off, a flash of green flashing before my eyes.

"Good! So the damage might not be as extensive as we feared!" She beamed at me.

I gave a small sound of agreement. The type a mouse would make when it finds itself in the middle of a convention of hungry tigers. Without my Gift I felt naked, defenseless.

"Hey! I am not that bad!" She huffed in annoyance.

I nodded vigorously.

"Really!" She pouted cutely.

A bucked filled with ice cold water appeared from thin air and splashed into my face. I spluttered and glared at the female with apparently magic powers. She beamed and again waved a hand at me. I was suddenly dry again with a new cup of coffee in my arms. What the hell did I get myself in now?

"That is much better." She beamed at me. "Now lets cut to the chase. I am here to evaluate you."

"Uh, huh." I was watching her warily wondering if I had finally lost it. That is if the whole thing with X-COM wasn't a figment of my imagination in the first place.

She tilted her head as if listening to something and then blushed. "Oops?" She muttered, sounding embraced. "I forgot how this may seem to you." She waved at the void surrounding us.

"Indeed?" It wasn't looking particularly good, at all. I hated feeling helpless.

"Introductions are in order, I guess. I should have started with that." She pouted cutely. "I'm KLD 0941-VC1, but you can call me Katie." The woman was smiling again. "I'm a class six X-COM smart AI!" She chirped.

"Of course you are..." I muttered.

All this being a virtual reality would explain much. Now, it didn't mean that I would just take her words for granted and accept that whatever this was, it was an X-COM run op. Even if it was, well that wouldn't be a guarantee that they had anything approaching my best interests as an agenda.

"What do you want?" I asked and took a sip from my drink. It was safe. Probably. At least it tasted divine.

"To find out if you had all your faculties still intact. All scans indicated some brain damage and possible memory loss. We wouldn't want you to go mental and trash everything in sight when we awake you."

"So I'm dreaming all this?" I waved around. "That's reassuring." I deadpanned.

"In a manner of speaking. You are are submerged in nanite sludge, while the little buggers are finishing your tune up. It's been some after you were shot before we gained the necessary technology to heal such injuries."

"Was it? I was pretty sure that I was shot in the face. How do you fix that?"

"You managed to mitigate the plasma bolt a bit with your psionics. It was further weakened when it hit your helmet. Besides you got lucky, Corporal. The shot hit straight at one of the psi-amps, built in the helmet, further dispersing its force. That was the only reason you lived long enough to be brought back to the EU Headquarters and put into stasis."

"Ah. So that's how you did it."

"Indeed. So you were aware that Doctor Shen was able to make the alien stasis tanks run?"

"I heard such rumors. How long?"

Katie didn't answer and just stared at me. She tilted her head again, before she nodded to herself.

"Today is December first, 2175."

"I see..." I trailed off. Hundred and fifty years. I should be shocked. In denial too.  
Yet… there was nothing. Just calm acceptance. Of course, I wasn't taking her on her word, but still…

"I'll want some corroboration for that, you know." I said with a surprisingly calm voice.

"Ah. Denial?" She asked, while looking me in the eyes. "No. Not exactly. You'll have all the proof you want in few hours when the docs de-tank you, Corporal. I won't be asking you about anything classified in before that happens, either."

"That's convenient."

"I'm not going anywhere before you are evaluated, and that can't be reliably done unless you have a reason to be at least marginally cooperative with your answers." She shrugged.

"Your consideration is appreciated."

"Don't be coy. You obviously don't mean that."

"What gave me up?"

"Your sunny disposition?"

* * *

 **=SF=**

"It's time. You'll black out for a moment while the docs de-tank you." Katie said.

"There goes nothing..." I muttered.

The world went dark and I drifted once again. It was restful, peaceful. At least for a few moments. Then I felt inertia, as if I was in a moving vehicle. I opened my eyes and immediately slammed shut my eyelids when a blinding white light did its best to blind me. I heard a hiss and felt a the air around me move as some kind of mechanism moved.

"Veil? Corporal Veil? Are you all right?" The now familiar voice of Katie rang in my ears.

"I'm not deaf." I tried to say but it came out as a gurgle.

"He doesn't seem all right." A male voice stated.

"What do you expect? He's been on ice before the war ended." Added another.

"Don't just stare at him! Get him to the gurney and run another scan." There was a concerned note in Katie's voice.

I felt weak. Sleepy.

"Hey! No sleep right now! Stay with us!"

Uhh…

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **09:10 AM, 5 December 2175 AD  
SSV TKL-21  
En route to Earth  
Sol System**

"Corporal, we are on final approach to Earth. I believe that you would like to see it." The pilot chirped in, awaking me.

The shuttle wall in front of me sparkled for a moment as static electricity ran over it, before it became transparent. I stared at a beautiful blue sphere, which was becoming bigger by the minute. There were flashing dots above it, ships or distant stations I guess. I noticed them as barely an afterthought.

Because the planet we were approaching had captivated my attention. Seeing Earth from such distance made me giddy. The blue oceans, blue and brown continents on the visible side… The white and orange lights lighting up what little of the night side I could see from this angle… The tower rising from northern Africa straight into space… Wait, what?!

"That's a damn space elevator!" I exclaimed.

"Yep. One of three currently operational." The pilot confirmed what my eyes were seeing.

He banked, changing our approach vector a bit and I was soon able to see the almost transparent silhouette of another, raising from India.

"The fourth is currently under construction. You can barely see its frame from here. It's was already planned by the time Mass Effect was discovered and it began construction before we had really cheap lifting capabilities. Even now, the elevators are a great economic boon, though not as much as when we were dependent only on Elerium powered propulsion." The pilot was all too cheerful to educate me on the realities in this new age.

"Look over there!" He exclaimed. "We are about to pass near SSV Everest, Home Fleet's flagship."

I looked around, searching for said craft. It took me few seconds until I saw a cluster of blinking lights that was becoming bigger and bigger, faster than the others in orbit.

Soon enough we were passing close enough so I could get a nice view of the Everest. She was a flying mountain of guns and armor, looking like a somewhat flattened brick instead of the crafts I've seen during the war.

"Two and half kilometers long, with three spinal mounted Mass Accelerator cannons, Twelve Heavy Fusion Lances..." My driver was droning on and on about her capabilities, most of which frankly flew over my head. Though she sounded almost as awesome as she looked.

I grinned foolishly. This was actually the first time I allowed myself to believe that we actually gained something significant from the war. Despite the power armor and energy weapons I was familiar with from all those years ago, they felt insignificant against the alien onslaught.

Yet, here I was, approaching a strong and proud Earth.

I leaned back in my seat and relaxed. One day I might even believe that all the sacrifices we made was worth it. Seeing the Everest would do that to you.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **Part 3. Ghosts of a murdered past**

 **12:11 PM ST (standard time), 5st December, 2175 AD  
Memorial of the fallen  
European Federation  
Sol System**

It was a simple, black obelisk, the only man made structure that could be seen for kilometers. That is if you don't count the almost sterile concrete slab that had been poured over what used to be my home town. I stared at the hundred meters tall monument, which was covered with inscriptions.

Each one was a name.

Ninety thousand of them, civilian and military alike.

The names of my immediate family, my parents and cousins, my aunt's were among them… Consumed by the God damned bugs or turned to ash when the division sent to contain the outbreak died trying to do so and my home town was nuked to stop the spread of the Chrysalids.

My last link to the past – gone in the blaze of a thousand suns.  
I stared at a clear, blue skies and screamed in impotent rage. My Gift responded to my fury, purple tendrils of eldritch power whipping around me without direction. All I could see was a purple haze, my wordless challenge to the Ethereals remaining unanswered.

Eventually my boiling rage started cooling down. My Gift went dormant and the psionic halo surrounding me died down.

"For what's worth it, I'm sorry." My minder for the day whispered quietly.

I glanced in his direction, startled by his voice. Lieutenant David Anderson looked back calmly, unperturbed by my outburst. Unharmed too. His mastery over his own Gift had protected him when I lost control over my psionics.

"I appreciate it, Sir. Sorry for that display." I waved around and turned my back to the memorial. "I need to get out of here."

"I know just the place."

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **18:15 PM ST, 5st December, 2175 AD  
London  
European Federation  
Sol System**

"This brings back memories." I said after washing a bite of chips with some dark and cold beer.

"You've been around here before?" Anderson asked.

"Well, not this place, obviously. I was part of four operations in the UK, which happened almost back to back. So for a couple of weeks I was transferred to a facility on the islands and operated as a part of one of the local units." I took a sip of my beer to clear my suddenly dry throat. "After the last mission was done, command decided that we needed some time to wind down and let us loose for a few days. Short story long, we ended on a leave in London, so I had the pleasure to sample what you Brits had to offer." I shrugged, the memories of that time causing some pangs of nostalgia. "Though to be honest, none of us tried to fish, not after our last ops on your soil. Though the chips and beer were great."

"That village that was overrun by the bugs." Anderson nodded in understanding. He probably learned about it either at during training or back at school, during history class. It's funny that what was supposed to be classified the last time I walked the Earth was now common knowledge.

"So do I pass muster or you haven't have enough time to make up you mind?" I changed the topic.

"You haven't went on the deep end. Yet." David shrugged, politely not mentioning my episode back at the memorial. "Eh. You'll do all right. As far as I can see, you aren't particularly crazier than the rest of us."

"Considering what I remember about the general sanity level among X-COM that's not reassuring."

"We've been mostly in peace since the war ended and we managed to clean up all stragglers from Sol." He shrugged. "It's natural that we are now a bit saner outfit. Not that the rest of the Alliance armed forces would agree." Anderson smirked.

"Some things never change." I snorted. "Though it's surprising. When they told me about this Citadel Council and the 'good' aliens I was expecting that there would have been war after first contact."

"We got lucky. The commander of their Scout Flotilla kept his head, ours too which was more surprising given our history." Anderson shook his head. "The fact that Commodore Howard had a Battle cruiser in his Task Force sure helped, keep the Turians honest. Then again, what's really surprising is that we didn't start shooting at each other once the politicians got involved."

"Amen to that."

"Granted, it's haven't been all good, though we have mostly decent relations with the Turians, which is important, considering that they are the Council's military arm."

"I still can't wrap my head around the galactic politics."

"It's complicated." He winced. "While we don't have the numbers to take on the Council, we do have a significant technological edge. The fact that we aren't bound to the relay network helps a lot. In a war, they will break their fleets in relay assaults, while most of our core words are reasonably secure. Hell, we have some colonies which they can't reach with their current FTL tech." He grinned. "No suitable planets on the way for them to discharge the static charge from their drives. In a war that would give us safe haven until they could capture, reverse engineer and build a lot of ships with our own FTL drives." His smile disappeared. "By that time both sides would be wrecked beyond any reason. On the bright side, that fact is known to the Council so they haven't really been pushing us around, though some facts of our life rubs them raw."

"Why do I have the feeling that this doesn't even scratch the surface?"

"Because it doesn't. You can get most of the details on the extranet."

"I'll check it when a few weeks open in my schedule."

"That's an optimistic assessment."

"How did you manage that?"

"Blame it on the X-Rays."

"Ah. So that still works?"

"Usually. Its either Asari political maneuvering or Salarian skullduggery. So any idea what are you going to do?"

I looked at Anderson for a long moment, then shrugged. "Reenlist if X-COM will have me. It's not like I have something left in civilian life. Besides I always wanted to see the stars. What do I need to do to get a shipboard assignment?"

"Well, while there is no guarantee, there are somethings that will improve your chances. That you are rather powerful psi operative does help too. Let me see..."

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **06:00 AM, 15 December 2175 AD  
"Col. Joakim Koh" Training Camp  
New London  
Local Cluster**

I stood at attention, shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of brand new recruits. After agreeing to remain a part of X-COM, the powers that be had decided that it was high time to get the training I should have received before becoming a part of the Ethereal war. The silver lining was that thanks to my service during the war, I had a sergeants stripes waiting for me, as well as some back-pay. A lot of it actually. However none of that was going to help me now. First I needed to be trained to the current X-COM standards, and once I was qualified for a basic trooper in this day and age I would be looking up to NCO courses as well as advanced psi training.

That's why I was wearing a standard green jumpsuit, with no insignia and waited for the Drill Instructor to finish glaring at the recruits around me like they were the scum of the Earth. Then her eyes reached me and she smirked. Joy. I was going to bloody hate the training. I already knew it.

"Well, well… What do we have here?" She grinned at me.

Yep. Why the hell did I chose to volunteer for this shit again?


	2. Chapter 1 Parts 1 and 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1: Tales of the barman**

* * *

 **22:48 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Azure Nightclub**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"Bloody publicity whores..." I cursed quietly over my drink – a purple Thessian beverage which was recommended by the barman, when she found out what my predicament was.

The latter wasn't particularly easy. Not when my face was plastered all over the God damned news. You see, some bastard, who probably was running for re-election had "accidentally" leaked my story to the news channels… Which apparently was a big thing, or it was just a slow news day. Either way, the blissful anonymity I was enjoying as far as the civies were concerned was at it's end.

The end result was that thanks to my actions during the Ethereal war and the simple fact that I was the last surviving veteran of that conflict, I was hailed like a hero. Which unless I was very much mistaken would mean my recall back to Earth for some damned dog and pony show, something that thankfully I've been able to avoid so far.

I wasn't a hero damn it! During the war I didn't fight to protect civilians, or even Earth as a whole. Oh, no. I did it for purely selfish reasons – it was the only way to ensure that I won't end up as an alien experiment. If we won and I wasn't captured that is.

The men and women who died, while I was learning the hard way how to use my Gift in the field, they were heroes. Me? Not so much. In fact, that was one of the reasons why I decided to remain with X-COM in this brand new world. They, we take care of our own. Besides they gave me the training so I won't be weak again, making it less likely that I once again end as a damn test subject.

The other reason was simple, I wanted to see the stars just as I said to Lieutenant Anderson. It was an opportunity I was given after not fucking too badly during the various training courses I had to pass.

On the other hand, now I was a brand new NCO, who would be responsible for people. Once my leave is over that is, something that would happen sooner than later thanks to the damned media circus that was happening.

"You know, most people, human or not, would enjoy being hailed as heroes." The proprietor of Azure, who apparently doubled as a barman said in a gruff voice.

I looked up from my half-finished drink and saw the blue woman smirking at me.

"All I did was survive and even that's debatable considering how long I spent on ice." I shrugged glumly.

"That's more than a lot of soldiers could claim and they didn't have to face such odds." She paused, studying me for a long moment. "Was the war as bad as the media portrays it?"

"I've seen some of the history vids. From where I stood was much, much worse." I grumbled.

"Well, that's a given. Most of those who made them probably weren't in the field getting shot." The Asari snorted.

"Of course not." I finished my drink and looked around. "Another one, please."

On five tastefully decorated platforms I could see scantily clad women, both Human and Asari, dancing to the beat of slow, melancholic music. The view was rather enticing, especially when you consider that I haven't had the opportunity to get laid ever since I awoke in that never sufficiently cursed alien lab. More than a century and a half. That had to be a record and not of the good kind.

"Like what you see?" The Asari behind the bar snorted.

"Yep. I'm a straight male so there is no way in hell I wouldn't enjoy the view."

"Some of your kind don't share that sentiment."

I turned around to see her sliding another drink my way.

"Do you mean Human or X-COM?" I asked after taking a sip.

"Either. Both."

"It's been a long time since the war ended. However the scars run deep, and I'm not just saying it because I saw it first hand. Usually it was pure hell and the bastards often targeted civilian in terror raids. More often than not we were too late to save most of them."

"While not on the same scale, what I've heard and seen, reminds me of tales my parents told me of the Krogan rebellion."

"From what I learned that one was quite bad too."

"Yeah."

"So how did you end up here, with a Nightclub on a Human world?"

"That's a long story."

"I have some time."

"Elysium was one of the first colonies your government made open for business with the Citadel. Part of why I came was curiosity. I'm no maiden and the last few centuries were quite boring." She smiled softly, obviously remembering something. "With a few notable exceptions, but I digress. When your people appeared on the galactic stage, you made quite a splash." A spark of mischief appeared in her eyes.

"So I've heard. I still find it hard to believe that the first contact wasn't made with guns blazing."

"Considering your history, that's understandable." She nodded. "Then again, the Turians are know to overreact now and then too. Stiff bastards, most of them. Actually getting someone reasonable in command on both sides probably was a small miracle in itself."

"You don't particularly like them?" I asked.

"I've been married to Turians twice, so they are nice enough. On the other hand, I'm not blind. They can be a rule bound idiots on occasion."

"Nothing new there, aliens or not." I smirked.

"Indeed..."

"Damn it, Kowalski! Did you have to drag us into a strip club?" A woman's voice carried over the music and din of quiet conversations.

I glanced towards the entrance. There were five human soldiers in civilian clothes. Three women and two men. It was obvious by the way they carried themselves. I'm the same ever since I survived boot camp. If this was their whole squad that meant marines or X-COM. The army's units were between eight and fourteen strong, but for those of us who served primary on ships, the squad size was usually four to six.

The woman whose voice got my attention was a striking redhead, who had a fiery shoulder length hair. I frowned when she looked around and I could see her face. She looked familiar, but I couldn't remember where I saw her.

"Friend of yours?" the Asari asked.

"The red head looks familiar." I shrugged and stopped paying attention to the soldiers. "She probably looks like someone I knew before they put me on ice..." I trailed off and sipped my drink. It's tasted sweet, exotic. Not like something I've tried before. All in all, it was quite nice.

"It must be hard." The Asari frowned. "I forgot that you are quite short lived species."

"Apparently that was somewhat solved with the newer generations of gene mods, but that didn't help anyone I used to know. No much point to dwell on the past. I'd be dead otherwise."

"That's the spirit."

She opened her mouth to say something, however her words were drowned out by the sound of sirens.

"You got to be fucking kidding me!" I spat.

Nope, this wasn't happening. I was on vacation, damn it! On a secure Alliance world too!

The military grade omni-tool implanted in my left hand started vibrating. It was probably ringing too, but I couldn't hear it over the sirens. I activated it with a gesture and my arm was engulfed by orange hologram, a transparent vid-screen appearing over it. The screen showed the X-COM logo for a couple of seconds before it was replaced by text.

 _ **Code Black is in effect.**_

Shit. That was the polite way to say that an invasion was imminent.

 _ **Orbital and planetary defenses are sabotaged.**_

 _Of course they are. My luck was apparently surgically removed._

 _ **Unidentified transports are approaching Olympus City.**_

 _ **X-COM personnel within the AO are to gather Intel on enemy ground elements and disrupt their operations by all available means.**_

 _ **Vigilo Configo**_

The message cut off. It was obviously a per-planned contingency going into an effect.

I glanced at the soldiers, most of whom looked stunned. Damn, rookies. The patrons weren't much better, most had looks of disbelief on their faces.

The sirens suddenly cut off just as the light went out, before we were bathed by the glow of red emergency lights.

"You'd better get your people and clients to hunker down. If this place has a large enough basement that would be ideal."

"My girls know how to handle themselves. There is a big basement." The Asari paused. "Well, some of them. Are you going to play the hero again?" She gave me a pointed look before smirking. "It will give your fans in the media some fresh stories to talk about."

"God damn it." I muttered, before accessing my Gift and flaring it.

One little trick I learned during the psi courses was that it could be used to burn alcohol out of ones system. Quite useful.

I took a deep breath and stood up.

"All civilians, follow the personnel, there is a basement below us" I bellowed, just as one of the Gunny sergeants running my NCO course taught me. "All military personnel form up on me."

One of the soldiers with the red head looked at me. His eyes became huge and he exclaimed: "Holy shit, that's the fucking Revenant."

I gave him a venomous look, which would have made any Thin Man jealous. Fuck the damn media for giving me a God damn moniker.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 2. Navy woes**

* * *

 **22:57 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **SSV "Berlin"**

 **High Orbit over Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"What's the status on the sensor grid?" Captain Holy Michaels asked.

"The Lombardi is in place and running diagnostics." The Comm officer answered after calling the support vessel overseeing the repairs.

"They better fix it for good this time. It's the third time this week we are loosing partial coverage because of shoddy equipment." Holy muttered.

"We sent the report to command, the ball is in their court now." Her XO, Commander John Thorpe shrugged.

"Ma'am, one of the freighters nearby just declared emergency. Its the Holj, registered in the Terminus Systems."

"Call them and check what's the problem. Sensors, I want them scanned."

"Multiple life pod launches! They are abandoning ship."

"I want the nearby lanes cleared. What are they carrying?"

"Industrial machinery, or so their manifest says." The XO answered after consulting hims omni-tool.

"Multiple explosions along their cargo hold. The Holj is losing structural integrity. The hell?! Thermal blooms! Multiple torpedoes on course for Elysium."

"Battle stations! Weapons I want that ship gone! Intercept as many of those torpedoes as possible!" Captain Michaels snapped.

"Ma'am, we just lost contact with the Lombardi."

"Comms, Priority One call to all Alliance units in system. Code Black is in effect. Authorization Michaels-Zebra-Nine-Omega-Seven-One-Five-Niner. All civilian ships are to break orbit and get away from Elysium or they will be fired upon."

The Berlin shuddered as her broadside weapons spoke, slamming in the Holj.

"Target One is breaking up. GUARDIAN lasers downed eight torpedoes. The rest are out of effective range." The Weapons officer reported.

"Ma'am. The planetary defense grid isn't intercepting the remaining ordinance. Sat network is not responding either."

"Long range comm lines to Alliance space are down. I can't establish connection with anyone out of this system cluster."

"They are targeting the hyper-wave comm station as well as the military base near the capital." Commander Thorpe, who was looking over the shoulders of the sensor operator, reported.

"Comms, patch me to the Dauntless. Recall all our patrols."

"This is Commander Rostov, Captain. What are your orders?" Asked the frigate's skipper.

"Commander, I want you to get the world out and call in the cavalry. We'll hold whatever is coming our way to the best of our ability."

"Wilco, Ma'am. God's speed."

"Captain, Code Black is going in effect on Elysium. The Defense grid is still not responding."

"AA emplacements nailed five more torpedoes. We lost the comm relay. Six hits on the military base and four more over Olympus energy grid."

"Someone will lose their head for this." Thorpe growled.

"Can't say I disagree, XO. Status on the civies?"

"Scattering. No one is trying to approach the planet."

"So we might not have additional Trojan horses..."

"Or they are waiting for their buddies."

"Status of the fleet?"

"All units are ready for combat."

'Let's hope it will be enough.' Michaels thought. She had four cruisers and eleven frigates. Technically it was a rather small force for the defense of a system like Vetus, however despite being a nexus for a lot of primary and secondary Relays… which meant a lot of space to patrol. Further it was on the fringes of human space, with only the Batarians nearby. And the Hegemony was supposed to know better than to try anything dumb. Or so the Alliance parliament and Navy brass thought, though some elements within X-COM disagreed.

"Multiple FTL events detected! Multiple new contacts at long range." The Sensor operator reported.

"How many?"

"Thirty four… Fifty… Fifty seven… Sixty eight..."

"Well, at least it will be a target rich environment." The XO quipped.

"Comms, please warn them off once. What are we facing?"

"At least two thirds read as frigate class, multiple types. The rest are cruisers. Numbers still raising. Eighty… Eighty four..."

"How the hell did they slip through our early warning systems?"

"Same way we lost the grid. Some sorry bastard sold us off."

"Unknown contacts are advancing. Total count one hundred and seven. Eighty one frigates, fifteen cruisers the rest read as freighters."

"No response to our hails. Enemy fleet advancing."

"They appear to be standard Mass Effect designs." Thorpe mussed.

"They will try to pick us off at range." Captain Michaels nodded. "That gives them the best advantage."

"If we go and meet them, some of them will go FTL and hit the planet."

"They will do it anyway. There is enough scrap coming our way to cover those transports. All units, formation Beta Three. We'll stay mobile."

 **=SF=**

The Alliance frigates moved in front of the cruisers, entering a loose arrowhead formation. Behind them, the four capital ships moved in a single line took aim and opened fire. Their spinal mounted Mass Accelerators spat a round every four seconds, while the two long range laser cannons each cruiser had spoke every five. Moments later, the enemy cruisers returned the favor.


	3. Chapter 1 Parts 3 and 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **AN: I need a beta for this story!**

 **Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3. Welcome home, soldier; welcome to the war**

* * *

 **23:08 PM 12 August 2176AD**

 **Athena District Police Station**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"The Armory is this way, sergeant." A police officer led us down a long corridor leading to the depths of the building. A heavy armed and armored SWAT team jogged in the opposite direction barely giving us a glance.

"Any news on who are our uninvited guests?"

"Last we heard there was a ME based fleet incoming. We've been jammed ever since."

"So at least it's not Ethereals." I let out a sigh of relief.

"Don't joke like that, sir!" One of the marines quipped.

The cop shook his head at our antics. "Here it is." He waved at the end of the corridor, where a pair of officers armed with laser rifles stood guard over the opened doors of the Armory.

We wasted another couple of minutes while our identifications were checked again, just to make reasonably sure that we weren't infiltrators who would start shooting up the station from within, before the guards let us in to get armed.

"Johnson, who are your buddies? I haven't seen them around." The Armorer's gruff voice greeted us. He was a heavily augmented black man who was more metal than flesh. There was extensive scarring around his synthetic limbs showing that his "upgrades" weren't entirely voluntary.

"A bunch of marines and an X-COM celebrity." Our guide quipped.

"So you grunts came to poach my toys?" The Armorer, who had sergeant stripes visible on his uniform jacked shook his head in a mock disapproval. "Any idea who is invading us today?"

"So that's a frequent occurrence around here? I should have a word with my travel agent. He didn't mention such fun and games."

"Heh. We are on the fringe of human settled space. It was just a matter of time."

"Damn right. Probably Batarians. No one else is dumb enough to try." Johnson grunted.

"I'll take them any day instead of more Etherials."

"You'll know, sarge."

"What do you have for us?" I asked the Armorer who still hadn't offered his name.

"Laser rifles, some old carapace armor and rigs with kinetic barriers. A few spare flash-bangs..." The augmented man started pointing at different corners of the Armory.

"Couple of Alloy cannons too, if I'm not mistaken."

"Those two, yeah." He nodded at said weapons.

"Suit up. On the double people!" I snapped my best impression of a drill instructor and headed towards the racks of armor.

Johnson's omni-tool pinged and he fired it up. "We have drop-ships touching down in Troy and Sparta. Batarians all right. Vorcha too, damn critters."

"Any Krogan?" I asked while strapping on a breastplate that was a size too big. According to my training, the Vorcha were rarely seen without at least a few Krogan to keep the crazy bastards in check.

"Not so far. We just lost the grid in Sparta. Overloads." Johnson grumbled.

"So they are not complete imbeciles. A pity."

"Not too bright either. The Alliance won't let this stunt go unpunished." Shepard, who had already gotten into her borrowed armor, muttered.

"Damn straight. Now, it goes without saying, but those aren't the bad old days. So no heroics or any dumb stunts." I started reading the riot act on my makeshift squad. "Watch each others backs, keep low and into cover when possible. And try very hard not to get killed."

"That's an order we can get behind, boss!" One of the marines, Marines I think, cheered.

I placed the tactical rig containing the shield emitters and battery over the armor and went towards the weapon racks. Shepard had claimed one of the Alloy Cannons and was petting the damn thing. She had a disturbing smile on her face too, which started ringing alarm bells in the back of my head.

I went next to her and grabbed the other cannon, checked it up and strapped it on the tactical harness over my chest before I started loading myself with ammo.

"Private, you are obviously giddy with the prospect of blowing up Batarians to little chunks." I whispered to the red head.

My words took her out of her happy place and she looked sheepishly at me.

"If you pull some stunt and get one of us killed I'll shoot you myself. Just to be clear." I fixed her with a cold stare.

"Understood, sarge. I'll behave." She looked as if I just kicked her puppy.

"You'd better." I muttered. Why did I always end up serving with the crazy? Oh, yeah. I was X-bloody-COM. It came with the territory. We were a damn crazy magnet.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **23:19 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

A few minutes later, we were in the back of a police van, which was keeping low to the ground while racing towards the mayor's office. Before the surveillance grid was fried in this district too, it noted that at least four shuttles with gunship escort to boot, were landing on the front lawn. About a third of the local SWAT units were already there, guarding the place. They were already engaging the hostiles and asking for help before contact was lost due to jamming.

Considering that most of the local law enforcement officers were busy assisting with the evacuation of the civies or trying to slow down the invaders, I decided that we were going to reinforce the Mayor's office.

Thanks to Johnson's crazy driving, it took us only couple of minutes to get from the precinct to the small plaza where the invader's had landed. And that's with him keeping to side streets so we didn't make too tempting a target for an enemy gunship. We spilled out of the van the moment Johnson hit the brakes and split out, dashing to get into cover.

Which proved to be unnecessary. We were at the back of the enemy force, who had all their attention concentrated on the five story building where the SWAT were hunkering down. The imbeciles had no rearguard posted, not even an odd drone or sensor left to warn them if some sneaky bastards were preparing to ream them from behind.

Obviously the bastards were anything but professional. Or they had a psionic keeping an eye on the area, however unlikely that was.

We could clearly see the four shuttles, each a different model, that were parked in the center of the plaza. There were at least five humanoid bodies in hardsuids laying around the ships. The pair of gunships we were warned about were buzzing overhead, strafing the Mayor's office. It was clear that those birds were the only reason why the SWAT folks hadn't slaughtered the invaders before they could actually disembark.

I glanced at the Armorer, who still refused to introduce himself, despite his decision to came with us after we took what little remained of his toys. He had a content smile on his face and a rocket launcher in his hands.

"Shepard, you and Martines will draw the fire of the second gunship after our mek-boy here blows the other to kingdom come. Then I'll deal with the bloody nuisance. The rest of you, give us some cover fire. Once the aerial treats are down, we'll hit the bastards from behind and pin them between us and the SWAT."

When the gunships prepared for another strafing run, conveniently placing their backsides in our direction I gave a hand-sign. The Armorer shouldered his weapon, took a moment to lock on his chosen target and left the missile fly. The insect like small craft banked left, its engines whining with strain as its pilot tried to evade. Countermeasures were shot from under the tail of the machines, leaving a rain of heat and light behind. However the advanced seeker of the missile paid no attention to the distraction, slamming in the right engine of the craft. An Elerium enhanced explosive detonated, shearing the gunship in two.

The other pest wasted no time and swung our way. Just as planned, Shepard and Martines dashed forward, sending the odd shot at the remaining gunship. The red haired woman blazed with purple light, accessing her gift. The air around the two marines distorted moments before the gunship opened fire with its cannon. The heavy bullets slammed all around the soldiers shredding the marble tile covering the plaza but otherwise causing little damage.

Score one for the distortion field.

While the enemy pilot was his attention otherwise occupied, I stood up. My gift flared up as I touched it, filling me up with warmth and sense of power. I directed the psionic energy in a well practiced path, a distorted sphere forming over my outstretched palm. It grew to the size of a football ball before I sent it at the gunship, guiding it with a purple tendril of energy. My attack struck true, hitting just above the cockpit. It warped, growing up to a meter in size, before twisting and shredding a chunk of the craft. The gunship spun out of control and slammed in the ground.

Straight at the fountain behind Martines had taken cover.

"Shit." I muttered.

The marine tried to sprint away, but he wasn't fast enough. The downed gunship blew up, engulfing the soldier in a wave of fire and shrapnel. I scanned the small sea of fire with my mind, hoping that he survived, but found nothing.

"God damn it!" I hissed. "Move in. We have invaders to kill."

I followed my order, sprinting forward. I caught a glimpse of Shepard. She was enveloped in a halo of psionic power as she charged forward. A pair of Batarians, who didn't have helmets on, had turned our way just in time to meet her. She used her power to propel herself at them, slamming in the closer one with enough strength to blow him off his feet. The other opened fire with his assault rifle, the grain sized bullets splashing on her shields. Shepard laughed and blew his head into chunks of flesh and bone with a well placed shot from her Cannon.

"Crazy woman." I muttered.

The only reason she wasn't blown away in turn were the SWAT folks who used the distraction to pour a torrent of fire in the caught off guard invaders. Then the rest of my makeshift squad got into position and spears of invisible light lanced at the enemy positions.

I let my soldiers to finish mopping up the surrounded invaders and fired off my omni-tool, calling up a map of the area, wondering what my next move should be, beyond linking up with the SWAT unit.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **Part 4: A bad day in the office**

 **23:14 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Joint Force Base (JFB) "Achilles"**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

Major Steven Chow sprinted towards the hangar where his _XW 31-Spirit_ Interceptor was safely protected by heavy armor and kinetic barriers. Around him army grunts were running for the base's Armories while a few of the AA emplacements were shooting up under local control. He could clearly see the funnels of smoke sneaking in the air from where the base's barracks used to be. The motor pool as well as a the hangars containing the ready flight were hit too, with the poor bastards getting incinerated before they could fly away.

Which should have been impossible, with the damn Navy in space, not to mention the planetary defense grid in place. Instead the first warning anyone got was the ear-piercing wail of the sirens moments before the orbital strikes hit.

At that time, Chow had been off duty, playing cards with a few buddies near one of the gunship hangars. That's what saved him from being killed in bed like most of his wing when the barracks were blown asunder. Steven's mind drifted, the images of what happened dancing before his eyes while he tried to coax a bit more speed from his burning legs.

He was sitting on an empty provisions crate, like his three other buddies. They were using an empty mech container as a makeshift table, which was covered with cards, chips and a few half-empty bottles of beer. Chow glanced at his hand and smirked at his fellow pilot who was sitting on the other side of the "table".

"All in."

"Wanker." Theodore Koll, a mechanic chief who stood to his right grumbled and folded his hand.

"Getting a bit arrogant, are we, little brother?" The last of the quartet chortled.

She was the only female in the small group and Chow's sister. Samantha believed that she knew his tells too, something that Steven was about to prove wrong.

"Sam, you've always been too..." Steven's words were drowned by the screech of a siren.

For a moment, the four of them were stunned.

"This has to be a drill, right?" Ron Cellar, the second pilot in the small group muttered.

"Can't risk it anyway. Move it people!" Chow ordered, the light buzz from the couple of beers he had drunk suddenly disappearing. They split in two directions. Samantha went to join her marines, while the pilots and the mechanic headed towards the Interceptor hangars.

Their first clue that whatever was happening was for real was when a few of the AA emplacements ringing the base opened fire. The familiar crack of lasers and whirling sound of rocked engines sounded over the whine of the sirens.

"That's not right!" Ron shouted over the cacophony.

Steven gave a grim nod. The base's defenses should have been putting a much greater volume of fire. What was actually happening appeared to be from weapons on local control.

Which meant sabotage.

An icy ball formed in the pit of Chow's stomach. He glanced up and blanched. A spread of falling stars was heading straight at the base.

"DUCK!" he screamed and jumped on the ground. His buddies followed suit without asking questions, which was a good thing.

Couple of seconds later they were buffered by shock-waves, heat and deafening roar of explosions. The ground below them shook like thrown by an earthquake.

Chow shook his head and looked around, trying to fight the sudden spell of dizziness that was trying to overwhelm him. He glanced around to see black smoke raising from multiple places around the base.

"Fuck. Ron, Theo! Are you two all right?!" He shouted.

Steven got a thumbs up and a middle finger in response, which was good enough.

"Move!" He shouted and rose on unsteady legs, before heading for the hangars.

 **=CF=**

* * *

When they reached the building housing Chow's and Cellar's birds, the trio was almost shot by wild eyed private who was obviously shaken by the surprise attack. Fortunately he recognized the Major before actually pressing the trigger of his AR and waved them in after glancing at Chow's ID.

Inside they found only one of the mechanics, Victor Fedorov, who was busy arming one of the _Spirits_ with missiles. A bunch of Mechs were helping him, running checks on the birds. Victor glanced their way and a look of relief appeared on his face.

"Boss, I'm glad you made it. We lost the ready flight in the first strike. I was afraid you bought it when the fuckers hit the barracks." Victor took a deep breath before continuing. "The General wants all available birds in the air before they hit us again. The squids had their hand full up there, there is a whole god damned fleet bearing on our position."

"When it rains in pours..." Ron cursed. He headed towards a nearby rows of lockers which contained flight suits.

"Any idea if anyone else of the 21st made it?" Chow asked before following his friend.

"Sorry, sir. No news. All I know is that the barracks were hit bad."

 **=CF=**

* * *

A few minutes later, Major Chow was strapped in the cockpit of his _Spirit,_ his attention divided between a hasty check on the bird's systems and the sensor screen, which was plugged in the base's sensor grid. The picture it painted was ugly.

The fleet was squaring against a ten times their number of unknown ships, with some leakers already hitting the atmosphere, disgorging shuttles and gunships. The only saving grace was that they were in the wrong position to immediately start bombarding the base, something that would undoubtedly be corrected soon.

Chow had no intention to be caught on the ground when that inevitably happened.

His eyes ran over the readout showing his wing's status. Only five pilots, Ron and him included had reported to the hangars and were preparing to take off. As far as he knew those were the only survivors. It was confirmed that the whole ready squadron had died before they could launch. The initial strike had been concentrated on them, the barracks and the energy grid of the Capital which was nearby.

"Major, you are all green!" Theo's voice came over his helmet's speakers. Chow looked out and gave a thumb's up to his friend who was looking at his omni-tool.

Steven pressed a button and the canopy slid in place before polarizing. He flipped two switches and the kinetic barriers came to life, steadily raising in power while the anti-gravity drive hummed, drawing energy from the Elerium core.

"Razor-1, launching."

The _Spirit_ Interceptor rose above the ground, its landing pads retracting in the hull. Chow carefully guided his craft out of the hangar's door and into the night. A ping on his sensor screen heralded that another fighter was exiting its hangar. Steven smiled when the IFF was processed. It was a _Dragon_ Strike Craft.

However his joy was short lived. Warnings flashed on his display. An enemy frigate was getting into position high above the base. Chow let his training take over as he activated the afterburner and his sleek craft headed for the heavens. His sensors started searching the sky for the intruder daring to challenge him, while the slower _Dragon_ started its own climb and prepared to join the hunt.

He tried to contact the other friendly craft but got no answer. For all Steven know, the bird might have launched with it's comms down. That would be inconvenient to say the least.

The sensor screen lit up with crimson icons, while the VI integrated in the Interceptor plotted their trajectories and point of origin. While the idiot savant that was supposed to help him fly was working, Chow tagged the incoming projectiles as targets and opened fire. First he sent two Dart missiles, before opening fire with his laser cannons. Whatever surviving his gun run would have to content with the Dragon and the base's AA defenses which hopefully would be soon fully operational.

One of the missiles merged with the icon of a torpedo, both vanishing from the screen. Steven nailed another of the incoming projectiles with his lasers, but then he had to go evasive when he was pinged by the targeting suite of the enemy frigate. He wasn't too keen to find out first hand how well the Spirit's armor would handle the enemy lasers.

That left the remaining torpedoes to slip by him only to run straight in the maw of the _Dragon._ The Strike Craft made a short work of them, blowing up six torpedoes and leaving a single projectile heading for the base. This time the AA emplacements got lucky, nailing it a kilometer above the ground.

Meanwhile Chow was in the zone, his attention concentrated on the frigate. He ripple fired four missiles at it, giving the GUARDIAN something else to shoot at, before he opened fire with his lasers. A glance at the sensors told him that the rest of the Interceptors were vectoring towards Olympus, ordered to strike at the enemy drop-ships heading at the city. That left him and the _Dragon_ as the only friendly craft over the base until reinforcements from the other bases could arrive in force.

To make his life even more interesting, a second frigate breached the atmosphere and headed his way. The _Dragon_ changed direction and headed straight at the new intruder. With that distraction taken away, Chow could concentrate his attention on his quarry.

A few seconds later he entered effective range and pressed the trigger. Invisible spars of coherent light started lancing between the two craft ignoring the kinetic barrier protecting them.

 **=CF=**

* * *

 **23:27 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **SSV "Berlin"**

 **High Orbit over Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"That was close." The XO muttered when the cruiser shook from an enemy hit.

"Starboard barriers down to twenty percent."

"Dump emergency power in their banks. Weapons, nail me that frigate!" Holy glared at the icon of the enemy ship that unloaded a quartet of torpedoes in her ship's side, nearly overwhelming the shields.

"On it, Ma'am."

The starboard's plasma guns spoke as one, bracketing the offending frigate with gobs of green death. Her barriers held for a moment, before the magnetic charge containing the plasma destabilized them, leaving the small ship vulnerable for the next barrage. The light armor of the frigate was no match for the strike that landed on it, vaporizing or shattering from the impact. The plasma dug deep into the enemy craft, turning decks into shrapnel filled furnaces. _Berlin_ delivered a third strike before the frigate could get out of range, gutting the hapless ship.

"Tango down, Ma'am." The Weapon's officer reported while searching for another juicy target.

"Well done. Now nail me another one. XO, any word on reinforcements?"

"Our closest patrols should be coming back in the next five minutes. That's two frigates _Agincourt_ and _Bagrattion,_ as well as a cruiser, _Madrid._ "

"They'll be useful. What's the status planet side?"

"Achilles was hit pretty bad. The barracks suffered at least two direct hit sin the opening strike."

"Damn it."

"Significant ground units won't reach Olympus for at least couple of hours and that's only if we can keep the skies relatively safe. Its at least six to twelve hours if we can't contest the orbital control."

"That's what? Local militia and police?"

"Yes. They won't hold for long. The enemy is dumping most of their ground forces at the Capital."

"What's the status on the ground based fighters?"

"The 21st Wing was all but wiped out. We have two ready squadrons in the air from other bases but it will be at least couple of hours before the rest of 17th and 19th Wings are ready to launch in strength."

"Keep those fighters as CAP over their bases. I want those Wings intact. We'll continue hit and run attacks until for the next two hours then we'll retake the orbitals and keep them clear long enough for airborne units to reach the capital. If we are lucky, we might get some reinforcements by that time."

"Let's hope Demeter will succeed."

"If there is no contact for three more hours, Fifth fleet will send a task force to check up on us."

"If those bastard aren't complete idiots, they will be pulling out by that time."

"Not if I have anything to say about that."


	4. Chapter 1 Part 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 5: Welcome to the future! We've got a suicide mission for you!**

* * *

 **23:41 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

This time Shepard was driving. Big mistake. The girl was a bloody maniac. I closed my eyes, trying to ignore the shaking van we were stuffed in, wondering how we got here. Ah, yeah. I didn't want the other maniac on the driver's seat.

I should have known better. After the Mayor's Office was secured for the moment, we received a distress call from the units guarding one of this district's civilian bunkers. The evacuation was still in progress, with a handful of militia and the police trying to get the civies into the bunkers. In an orderly fashion. Heh. Even a fossil like me knew that it was a pipe dream.

It might have worked. If it wasn't for the small problem of slavers dropping in to grab whoever they could, the bastards. If the damn defenses weren't compromised before the first shot was fired.

The most immediate problem was that one of the shelters had it's doors malfunction in the worst possible moment. Yeah. Mister Murphy was well, even after all those years. Or this was his nastier descendant stretching his or her legs. Anyway, the place was supposed to be packed with about a thousand or so civies inside, which meant that those people were ripe for the taking. There were only two SWAT teams and a few cops standing between them and a horde of Batarians, hell bent on enslaving them. The four eyed freaks had brought a tank too, which was happily suppressing the defenders while enemy infantry was getting in position to flank them.

That was the cherry picture that greeted us when we arrived.

"At least two platoons of light infantry. That sorry excuse for a tank and whatever air support they can call on. Not to mention the million other bastards rampaging nearby." The Armorer, who had decided to stuck with us 'so we don't get lost in his fine city', muttered.

"Any ideas, sir?" Shepard asked. For once the insane gleam was missing from her eyes. Instead, she was scanning the battle unfolding down street.

"Ah, my spoiled, clueless greenhorns. That's what we called a proper mission back in my time." I smiled, however knew that my fake joy never touched my eyes.

"So most of us are going to get killed." One of the marines got the correct answer.

"Probably. Welcome to X-COM."

"Aren't you supposed to dispel this gloom and doom? Come with a plan that get's the job done while keeping us alive? Besides, we aren't X-COM, just regular marines!" Shepard snapped at me.

"While this is a poor copy of a proper terror mission, the basics are the same. We might be able to take the opposition apart using proper tactics. If we didn't care what's going to happen with the civilians. However, keeping our people safe cuts our options significantly. We can't just pick up those bastards at our leisure. Unless there are some among you who are wiling to abandon the civies?" My voice grew hard. I know that I sucked where morale uplifting speeches are concerned. It wasn't like there was something in my training that covered the subject either.

The reason was simple, today's X-COM was similar to that of my time in this respect. We were expected to get the job done at any cost. If it meant our lives, no one was going to bat an eye. The war that forged the organization in what it was in this day and age was that bad. In contrast, the rest of the Alliance's military forces were… saner. Which meant that they actually expected that most of them would survive an engagement, the lucky bastards.

I shrugged at my charges. "It's not like I personally enjoy suicide missions or something. However after surviving the first few it becomes the new normal." I smiled sagely.

"What we are waiting for? The SWAT are getting flanked." Shepard glared at me. It was an impressive attempt, however she had nothing on pissed off Berserker.

"For that group," I pointed at the bunch of Batarians closest to us, "to get into positions and turn their backs on us. Then we will attack and slaughter the bastards. I'll expect some spirited covering fire for Shepard and me while we deal with the tank. Any questions?"

"Is it too late to leave this crazy outfit?" One of the marines asked.

"You can try after the slavers are driven off world. So do you best not to get killed. That goes for the rest of you, too."

"As if you care."

"I do. Anything with less than fifty percent casualties is a great achievement so that's what we'll be aiming for."

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" Shepard looked at the heavens for answer.

"While on leave you went in the wrong establishment." I deadpanned. "We are moving in position. Stay low, I'll try to keep us out of sight." I ordered, accessing my gift.

A small smile appeared on my face. Psionics are bullshit!

 **=SF=**

* * *

I honestly expected that the invaders would discover our approach. So either the concealment trick I was taught in training was awesome, or they simply sucked. Considering what happened earlier, on the plaza, I was inclined to bet on the later. It was great to face fucking amateurs for once. Those slaving bastards were a far cry from the Ethereal ground forces I had faced in the past.

They were going to pay for that.

While we approached, the SWAT were giving the Batarians hell. The heavy armed and armored police officers had a good position, which was reinforced by portable shield generators. That was the main reason that they weren't already overrun. However, with that tank present, they were running out of time.

"Those fuckers make a great target." Shepard grunted to my right.

"Yep. If we only had some mortar or arty support." I nodded. Most of a platoon was in the open, using abandoned air cars and vans for cover. It would protect them from some kinds of small arms fire, though they were just begging to be hit from above. It was too bad that we didn't have the assets to do that. On the other hand, all their attention was concentrated on the closest SWAT position. I shook my head in exasperation. Even as untrained and inexperienced as I was during the last war, I knew better. Well, the sergeant in charge of making me shape up knew better and he was determined to stuff as much knowledge in my head as possible and then some.

It was a pity that damn Berserk got him. The bloody thing tanked the firepower of my whole squad for fifteen seconds before going down. It was long enough for the damn xeno to gut Hector while it's buddies got into nice flanking positions. It was a good thing that an Apache that was providing air support chose that moment to make itself known by shredding the Mutons ready to shoot us in the back.

I shook my head, chasing out the small flashback and concentrated on the task at hand. We were about thirty meters or so behind the closest Batarian. Nice distance. I made a sign for my soldiers to halt and concentrated. The Gift surged in me, giving the world a purplish tint. I could sense the alien minds strewn before me. They were dim lights with no appropriate defense. With probably one or two exceptions they didn't have the willpower necessary to resist mental intrusions. That came with both extensive training, discipline and experience, which those bastards lacked.

My power touched an enemy grenadier's mind. His practically non-existent mental defenses crumpled like a straw hut in a hurricane. I could feel his shock and terror as his body was no longer his to control. I grinned as his sanity struggled while his hands moved under my direction, pointing a shotgun at the back of his nominal leader. Then his finger pressed the trigger, the weapon kicking against his shoulder. In the next moment he was splashed with steaming pieces of skull and brains. While his buddies were staring at him in shock, my pupped screamed in fear as I directed him to start pulling the pins of the grenades proudly attached to his chest plate.

The way his sanity slipped before the first explosion was delicious.

Before my pupped disappeared in a flash of blood and fire, I had left him acting on autopilot. My attention went to a squad of slavers who had some idea what they were doing. Instead of possessing one of them, I was content of touching their minds with waves of unresistable terror. It took me barely a few seconds to panic them. The terrified invaders either ran away, throwing their weapons, started shooting at anything that moved or simple fell to the ground, curling in a fetal position.

Then my puppet blew up, adding to the chaos.

That was the sign my marines were waiting for. They opened fire, scything through the confused Batarians. Meanwhile I sprinted forward, while keeping low. I sent a mental nudge to Shepard who shot a Batarian with her cannon before following me.

We had a tank to deal with.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **23:39 PM 12 August 2176AD**

 **Near the Primary Mass Relay**

 **SSV Dauntless**

 **Vetus System**

"A pity." Commander Rostov muttered.

His frigate's sensors could easily pick up five signatures near the Relay despite their attempts to be stealthy, by using nearby asteroids for cover. A single cruiser with frigate escort.

Under different circumstances, those wouldn't be insurmountable odds. If he had the time to play to his ship's strengths over the mass effect designs he was facing, it would be foregone conclusion. However, that would take time, time neither he or Elysium had.

"XO, I want you and as much of the non-essential personnel loaded in the shuttles. We'll buy you some time. You go call the cavalry. This is an order."

Lieutenant Commander Hannah Shepard glared at her superior.

"Just don't." Rostov raised a hand. "I'll have you and the rest of the crew escorted to the hangar by marines if I have to. This is not the time for heroics."

"Sir!" Shepard glared at him, obviously resenting the order.

Rostov gave her a flat stare. "I'm well aware of your family's story with the Batarians. You won't get killed today making some useless gesture. If I could I would be getting all the crew out. Now move."

Shepard gave him a stiff salute before heading for the hangar. Just in case, Rostov nodded at one of the marines guarding the exit. The Corporal saluted and headed after the fuming woman. Then he ordered most of his crew to either the hangar or escape pods, before concentrating at the task at hand.

"Weapons, when we go in, I want an Alpha strike on that cruiser. If we can take it out in the opening salvo, our chances will skyrocket."

"I'm on it, sir."

"Navigation, plot me a course behind the cruiser and warp on my mark."

 **=SF=**

* * *

The _Dauntless_ warped in, behind a pirate cruiser waiting to ambush her. One moment she was light seconds away from the Relay, then she vanished from real space only to appear behind her quarry. The Alliance frigate wasted no time, dropping six Elerium enhanced disruptor torpedoes and opened fire with her light laser cannons.

The pirate cruiser promptly responded with Guardian fire, nailing two of the incoming projectiles. The remaining four slammed over it's engines, dark matter and Elerium combining in a nightmarish reaction. The first two shattered the barriers of the obsolete ship. The remaining torpedoes homed in on the engine pods and contact detonated, leaving the cruiser dead in space.

The laser pulses and the fire-power of the close in plasma cannons of the _Dauntless_ were merely overkill, shattering open the armored shell of the crippled enemy combatant.

 **=SF=**

* * *

"That was easier than expected..." Commander Rostov trailed off. "Strafe Tango three and then head straight at four." He ordered.

His crew was efficient as ever, the _Dauntless,_ darting in the desired direction. The enemy frigates were already on the move, two of them shacking off the shock of their leader's sudden demise more promptly than the rest. Naturally those two were the primary targets.

The _Dauntless,_ flew at an angle towards Tango three, which wasn't agile enough to meet the Alliance vessel head on. That had the nice side effect of keeping Rostov's ship away from the enemy torpedo firing arks. Instead, the pirate frigate opened fire with her GUARDIAN lasers, which bypassed the _Dauntless_ barriers, splashing on the alloy armor. The firepower which was enough to carve up a Council frigate merely left gorges in the heavy armor. In response, the Alliance ship's own lasers speared her adversary like a helpless fish, racking her starboard side and opening most of her decks to space.

The remaining enemy ships were already responding, two of the frigates maneuvering to launch torpedoes. As per Rostov's orders, the _Dauntless_ disregarded them for a moment, aiming her nose at Tango four and releasing another spread of homing munitions. That frigate managed to shoot down three of the birds, responding with a quartet of her own.

It was too little too late. The return fire was shot down, the point defense immolating the last torpedo just a few meters short from the _Dauntless_ barriers. The pirate ships wasn't so lucky. The first hit breached her own defenses. The remaining two torpedoes slamming in her board sides moments later. The twin detonations broke her keel, the ship shattering under the strain of her own engines.

That's when the _Dauntless'_ luck ran out. The remaining enemy combatants got into position launching their own torpedoes and using their GUARDIAN lasers to target her point defenses.

At that moment Rostov could have tried to run. He and his remaining crew would have a reasonable chance to FTL away, before the torpedoes impacted. However, that would have defeated the purpose of the whole exercise.

"Helm, take us straight down their throats. Weapon's free. All hands brace for impact."

"Aye, sir." A subdued Lieutenant answered.

The bridge's crew knew the score and their likely fate. It did no difference. They obeyed their orders and executed them to the best of their ability.

The _Dauntless_ twisted in space, inertial compensators and mass effect core whining with the strain as the frigate turned almost in place despite her inertia. The exercise took years of those system's life, but it didn't matter. The _Dauntless_ had only moments left to live.

Her wounded point defense managed to shoot down half the incoming torpedoes. The rest struck her belly within a second from each other. The mad gravitational distortions snuffed out the barriers and bit deeply in the heavy armor. The alloy held for a moment before splintering under the stress. _Dauntless_ lurched, thrown off course by the impacts. Her still active secondary weapons clawed at her tormentors, moderately damaging one of the pirate ships.

It wasn't enough. The remaining enemy frigates reloaded their torpedo launchers and sent another salvo at the Alliance ship.

This time the remaining point defense guns weren't up to the task. They spat their defiance at the incoming death, blowing up a single torpedo out of space. The remaining seven struck her her all over the starboard side. The barely reformed barriers shattered like a thin sheet of glass under a hammer blow, letting five torpedoes to strike the hull. The armor did its best to stand up to the gravitational distortions before shattering. Decks and sealed bulkheads followed all the way into the heavily armored chamber containing the Elerium reactor.

 _Dauntless_ staggered, stopping for the brief moment in which her power source went in a catastrophic reaction. For a second a new star was born, shining brightly with emerald light. It vanished as soon as it appeared, leaving half-molten pieces of battle-steel.

Amidst the death and destruction, the remaining pirate ships never noticed the four shuttles that made their way to the Relay and jumped out of Vetus a few seconds before _Dauntless_ died.


	5. Chapter 1 Part 6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 6: You shall not pass!**

* * *

 **23:45 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

Dealing with the light tank turned out to be anticlimactic. I wanted to kick myself in the ass for not remembering sooner. There was a reason why back during the Etherial war the armored forces weren't particularly useful. Being hidden under tons of armor didn't do a thing to stop a fucking Ethereal or Sectoid Commander who wanted to mind-control you. At the best case, that would get the crew killed. If the friendly troops in the vicinity were particularly unlucky, whoever did the mind-control got themselves a tank to play with.

Now I'm not very good with the pupeteering stuff, which meant I could control a single person at a time. That wasn't particularly big problem in this case. I could sense only two minds in the tank. The one in the cupola, must be the commander, the unlucky bastard. I channeled my power in a single devastating strike. His mental defenses crumbled and I felt his mind breaking under the strain. That happens sometime.

That left me with little recourse than to use him as an inanimate puppet. To do that, I channeled even more power in his brain, sending a part of my mind in there.

For a moment I looked through six sets of eyes before I closed my own, dispelling a bit of the confusion. Then I used the Batarian's hands to pat him down searching for a weapon. Ah, he had a pistol on a magnet clamp on his hip! I took the weapon, which promptly unfolded in his hand and pointed it at the driver, who wasn't sealed in separate compartment. Three shots just to make sure and I was done with the tank. With the commander's mind turned into jelly, I didn't have the knowledge to operate the alien machine so I pulled my mind back and left the empty, drooling carcass.

A few seconds later I was back, controlling my own body. While I was dealing with the tank crew, the marines and one of the SWAT teams had finished the raiders on this flank, though it wasn't bloodless. One of the soldiers, a kid from Eden Prime, had ran afoul of the tank's gun. There wasn't much left from the poor sod. Another was shot in the left arm after his borrowed shield failed under a few too many shots. The SWAT were even worse off. Only two of their five man team were combat capable, with one dead and two critical.

We wasted no time and rushed to aid the other SWAT unit, which had to deal with a short platoon of pirates. Superior technology or not, if they were facing actual soldiers and not this sorry bunch of slavers, the cops would have been overrun by now. It was small mercy that most of the idiots we were facing apparently didn't really know what they were doing, or the enemy commander had the great idea of sending in the dregs first to soften us. That wasn't a happy thought.

When we reached the second SWAT position, we found half the cops on the ground, their black body armor splashed with fresh blood. A civilian had a med-bag open and was working on the wounded, while the last two policemen were providing covering fire. A half-competent enemy would have simply rushed the position and overrun the SWAT unit before we got there. It was a good thing that the damn pirated were anything but.

When we joined the firefight, all hope those Batarians had of forcing the position died. Some of them decided that they had enough and started ex-filtrating, leaving their leading units to our mercy. Needless to say, there wasn't much of it.

"Get me a prisoner or two but take no chances." I ordered.

"Sergeant, we have a problem." Shepard shouted from the left.

"What new disaster is raring its ugly head?" I asked and looked where she was pointing. "Well, shit."

I could see what was troubling her. Three huge forms were making their way towards us. There were many smaller, spiky humanoids skittering around them.

"Krogan and Vorcha." I grunted. Yeah, whoever was in charge of this clusterfuck had sent the idiots to get themselves killed first and now they were getting serious. If the briefing I got during my training was correct, those were most likely Blood Pack mercenaries. Which meant a bunch of angry Krogan herding in almost feral Vorcha as pissed off, flamethrower and shotgun wielding meat-shields.

I looked around. I had nine hale combatants, one walking wounded, and that's it. I glanced at the entrance of the bunker.

"Shepard, go in there and get me whoever knows how to hold a gun. I need volunteers to help us hold this position." I had the feeling that she was up to the job of getting us some help.

"I'm on it." She said and left after glaring at the approaching aliens. Those were couple of minutes away. Hopefully enough time to reduce the remnants of the pirate platoon on our right flank.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **23:50 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **SSV "Tokyo"**

 **Fifth Fleet flagship**

 **Asgard system**

 **Exodus Cluster**

Captain Oleg Petrovsky was in the CIC of his ship, running a late night exercise for the newest batch of ensigns that his command had been saddled with. Amelia, the _Tokyo's_ AI was running a simulated battle against a Turian fleet she was controlling. The fresh academy graduates had to run the ship after an accident had incapacitated everyone higher on the food-chain. And they were loosing badly, despite commanding a force that outclassed the Red team in most conceivable parameters. However the simulated bird faces actually knew what they were doing. His brand new sorry excuses for officers, not so much.

Petrovsky glanced at the woman standing at parade rest to his right. She was Lieutenant Gina Ronson and on top of her other duties had the misfortune to be in charge of the ensigns. She controlled her expression well, barely giving a hint of her displeasure with the performance of her charges.

The main holotank in the CIC was showing the simulated engagement for everyone to see. The by the book formation of Fifth fleet was shattered, leaving more than enough room for enemy frigate packs to flank and catch isolated units out of position. Which had a predictable result. While the light ships paid a frightful price, they were able to bring down their quarry, making the breach in the lines even more dangerous. Then two whole cruiser divisions came out of FTL on _Tokyo's_ starboard side which was now without adequate cover. Those were of the new Tempest design, torpedo boats, which sacrificed their spine mount for more launchers and magazine space.

The moment they exited FTL, the cruisers started launching their payloads in spring mode. In less than a minuted the Dreadnought's broadside silenced them, but not before more than two hundred torpedoes were in the air. Point defense did its best, downing about a quarter of the almost point blank barrage. The monstrous barriers of the behemoth held for two dozen hits or so before shattering. Then it was the heavy armor's turn. More than two third of the remaining torpedoes expended themselves in shredding the expensive alloy protecting _Tokyo_. The rest however had a free reign and buried themselves deep within the decks of the Dreadnought.

"Congratulations, you got my ship wrecked." Captain Petrovsky glowered at the ensigns. "There will be another exercise in three days. I expect significant improvement. Lieutenant Ronson, they are all yours."

"Aye, Sir!" Gina saluted and turned towards her charges, giving them a thin smile. The smarter of them winced when they saw her expression. "Fall in. We are going to have a long debriefing about your performance." She said in a calm voice. If someone didn't know her better, they would have thought that she discussed something as mundane as the weather.

A minute later, the greenhorns were safely away and the CIC was back under the sole charge of its usual crew.

"This is the sorriest bunch of ensigns I've had the displeasure to carry." Amelia's disgruntled voice came from a nearby loudspeaker. Here ethereal form appeared in the holotank, showing a middle aged Japanese woman wearing a Navy Captain's uniform. "They managed to got my whole starboard side wrecked!" She pouted.

"Now, now. You know very well that they stood no chance with you commanding the opposing force."

"Of course not! Still they made almost every possible mistake when facing a top of the line Turian fleet!"

"Lieutenant Ronson will straighten them out. She has a knack for it."

"She'd better, for their sakes."

"Amelia, no prancing the ensigns. Unless they mess up badly in the next exercise too."

"Aww, you are no fun, Captain!"

Oleg shook his head. He was about to leave Commander Jeremiah Stone in charge of the night shift, and calming down Amelia so he could go take some needed shut eye when the AI froze for a second.

"We've got Code Black. Three shuttles came through the primary relay to Vetus and we just got their message. According to their IFF they are from the Frigate Dauntless stationed at Elysium."

"Fuck. Wake the Admiral, set Condition One through the ship and bring the fleet to combat alert. What else are they saying?"

"The cliff notes? Elysium's Defense Grid is compromised. A freighter was used as a Trojan horse to deliver orbital strike on the military base closest to the capital. And there are more than a hundred ships attacking Elysium..." Amelia continued rattling the relevant information, including the destruction of the _Dauntless_ and the possible presence of at least two enemy frigates on the other side of the Relay.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **23:49 PM 12 August 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

Shepard outdid herself. I don't know what she said to the civies, but after just a couple of minutes she came back with more than forty volunteers. I put her and the still unnamed Armorer in charge of her new friends and they busied themselves with getting weapons from the dead and wounded. On the bright side, the few remaining Batarians that were left behind by their buddies were now either dead or captured. The latter were cuffed and stunned, just in case. We didn't need additional distraction with the blood pack coming in range.

At the same time, down-street the Krogan were busy kicking the Vorcha into shape and pointing in our direction. I don't know what the overgrown lizards were planning, however I wasn't going to watch a gift horse in the mouth. Every additional moment they delayed meant another of Shepard's crew got armed and assigned a position. It was additional time for the pair of maintenance folks to try fixing the damn doors for the bunker so the civies could be relatively safe if we were overrun. Further it was time for a bit of reinforcements to materialize from somewhere.

"Ah, that's what they've been waiting for." One of the SWAT guys who had a sniper rifle and was on over-watch in nearby building said over the comm line we shared.

I glanced downs-street. Another pair of Krogan were striding our way. Bigger and meaner looking too. They had another twenty or so Vorcha walking behind them.

I looked at the skies. "What did I ever do to you?!"

A Krogan roared. The Vorcha charged.

I glared at the incoming wave of spiky xenos and took a hold of my Gift. Tentacles of purple energy surrounded me as I used every trick I've been taught to temporally boost my power.

The closest ugly son of a bitch was thirty meters away and closing. Our sniper shot of its ugly head, the headless corpse stumbling on the ground only to be trampled by the rest of the raving lunatics.

I visualized the place where most of the horde would be in just a few seconds.

The rest of the makeshift defense force opened fire, gutting the front row of the Vorcha. The rest of the maddened xenos just kept on coming. At twenty meters they started firing with their shotguns.

Psionic energy surged through my body as I directed it into an intricate pattern. My body pulsed with barely restrained power.

Fifteen meters. The Krogans started a charge of their own.

My head started spinning with from the !br0ken! The world slowed down to a crawl.

"You..." I grit my teeth as it became painful to hold this much energy. "Shall not..." The world was engulfed in a purple haze as if I was looking it through a filter. "PASS!" I roared unleashing all the energy I could pump from my gift.

The Krogans reached the back rows of their Vorcha pets. The very fabric of reality shifted, then broke. A black void opened in the center of the horde, with a hollow purple disc surrounding it.

It was a tiny change. A little thing.

My power touched the minds of the gathered Vorcha and Krogans. Only two of the lizards had the discipline and presence of mind to fight the intrusion. The psionic Rift merely grazed them, finding no conduit. The energy simply glided over them, leaving minor burns which were already healing thanks to their insane regeneration.

The rest weren't so lucky. The Psionic power found purchase in their minds, their bodies becoming conduits.

Reality shifted again, tearing them apart.

I fell to my knees, gasping for breath. The pair of unaffected Krogan were sprinting my way, ignoring the sporadic fire splashing over their kinetic barriers and heavy armor.

I felt a stream of Psionic power and Shepard was there, slamming into the leading lizard. A corona of Psi power exploded around her, sending the Krogan stumbling back. She leveled her Alloy Cannon and pulled the trigger. The armored head of that bastard was torn open by the point blank shot. Just in case, she put a second blast in the alien, then a third.

That was a mistake. The second behemoth was merely slowed down. He pointed his giant shotgun at Shepard, who had her attention firmly on his dying buddy.

I tried to use my Gift to help her, but I was rewarded with the sensation of cold fire running through every nerve of my body. The last vestige of the power surrounding me vanished, leaving me a trembling, helpless mess.

Shepard finally noticed the danger. Her own Gift came to life in a desperate attempt to protect her.

The Krogan shot her in the chest. Instead of tearing her apart, most of the thunderous blast was absorbed by a purple wall that manifested between Shepard and her attacker. Nevertheless she was thrown to her back from the slowed down projectiles, which made a mess of her carapace armor.

The Krogan marched forward, until he was towering above Shepard. He raised a leg, ready to smash her chest. Mass effect rounds bounced off his barrier, while laser bolts merely melted gorges in his heavy armor.

I watched in a slow motion how his leg started descending with all his weight and power behind it.


	6. Chapter 1 part 7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 1: Vacation, X-COM style**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 7: How we deal with uninvited guests**

* * *

 **23:53, 12 August, 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

A flash of deep blue did it's best to blind me. However my improved eyes allowed me to see, despite the spots appearing in front of my vision. Something dark slammed in the Krogan with enough force to make him stumble back. The impact released a darkish blue shock-wave. Damn, if Shepard survived that she would be regretting it.

A quick blink cleared my vision just in time to see her savior – it was an Asari in skin tight commando leathers, the bloody fetishist. She had a dirty white shotgun in her hands, which she pointed at the head of the overgrown lizard and pressed the trigger. A sharp retort and the Krogan stumbled a step back, his defenses finally shattering. Another shot tore chunks from his helmet, yet the armor held. Then an emerald blob slammed just under his crest, vaporizing a part of the helmet.

The walking bio tank's agonized howl was interrupted by the aline woman. She used her biotics to pick him up and slam him in the ground. After that she calmly strode up to him, just in time for the Krogan to try standing up. That didn't help him, instead his move raised his burned head in such a way that made it easier for the Asari to shove her shotgun in the hole of his helmet and pull the trigger. A small fountain of liquified flesh erupted from the breach in the armor, showing that the damn behemoth was actually flesh and blood under after all. Then she did it again to make sure.

The next thing I knew was a SWAT member pressing a med-pack to my right hand. A moment later I sensed a needle piercing my flesh, before the discomfort was washed out by a wave of painkillers and stimulants. I shook as the drugs spread through my system. The pain and weakness vanished, leaving me with crystal clear head. Until the stimulants wore off. Then I would be crashing hard.

The policeman helped me up and I looked around. The last engagement was an almost complete one sided slaughter, yet there were more than a few wounded volunteers. The few people with medical training were providing first aid, while SWAT medic was kneeling over Shepard.

To make everything even funnier, there was a little armed standoff between our Asari helper and a few of the troops. Joy.

"What's the problem?" I went to ask after nodding a tanks to the cop who gave me the stimulants and picking up my weapon.

"She's an alien." One of the Marines pointed out the obvious.

"I noticed. She was our bartender, before the fun and games started. So, a mercenary, Council operative or just a retired Matriarch? My money are on all tree."

"A girl must have her secrets." She quipped in the gruff voice I was familiar with.

"I'll need something for the AAR." I shrugged. I wasn't about to shoot a potential asset, though I would be keeping an eye on her. Hopefully my rag tag unit wasn't going to make up my mind for me.

"You can't be serious!" The same trooper exclaimed.

"I'm X-COM, we are always as serious as a plasma round to the face. Besides, if I can work with her, by all that's unholy so can you. Am I clear, private?"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

"That's better. Now go help with the wounded. I'll talk with our friend here. Move it people!" I turned my attention to the medic handling Shepard.

"What's her condition?"

"Concussion for sure as well as a lot of broken and fractured bones. She should be all right if we can get her to hospital or stasis pod. I gave her enough drugs to keep even a corpse alive for the next few hours."

"Well, that shouldn't be an issue. We'll either be dead by then or the reinforcements will deign to arrive and save our collective asses. As for you, any particular reason why are you helping us?" I turned to the Matriarch.

"Would you believe that I was getting bored?"

"Officially? That's for command to decide. I've known a few folks who would consider all this," I waved at the burning city around us, "a bit of fun to kill some time."

"That's funny. So have I."

"Sarge, we have incoming. An enemy infantry column is heading our way, ETA 3 mikes." The sniper announced.

"Swell. Pull out the wounded back to the bunker. I want a few volunteers to help me scavenge a bit of enemy equipment and set up a few traps. We'll be pulling back under enemy fire."

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **00:05, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **SSV "Berlin"**

 **High Orbit over Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"Status of the fleet?" Captain Michaels asked.

"We are down to three cruisers and four frigates. Enemy fleet is at about sixty percent intact."

"After you factor our reinforcements?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Well, isn't that nice. What was the response time for fifth fleet?"

"They can have units here within thirty minutes of alert getting out."

"If Murphy is feeling generous and Dauntless managed to raise an alert, we should be getting some help in twenty minutes or so." The Captain mussed.

"I'm not feeling particularly lucky tonight, Captain."

"Neither am I. We should be getting most of our remaining patrols back in the next ten minutes. Let's make sure that we are alive to greet them. I want a Warp jump to the following coordinates…" Holly spoke, signifying a spot in space where four enemy cruisers were acting as long range artillery. "XO, coordinate with Madrid. I want her and Agincourt on our flanks. We are opening fire the the moment we re-emerge."

The cruiser shuddered when solid slugs slammed in her shields, straining them to the limit. The improvised enemy artillery had struck again.

"Barriers down to fifteen percent!"

"Dump the laser canon capacitors into the shields!" The Captain ordered. The ever present hum of the ship increased in volume as her energy network strained to redirect sorely needed power.

"Ma'am, a bit of good news. We have another wing of Strike craft ready on the surface." The Comm officer reported.

"It doesn't help us much right now."

"Jump coordinates ready and transmitted, ma'am." The Navigator all but shouted with excitement.

"At least try pretending to be professional, people." Michaels chided. "FTL at my mark." She said, studying the tactical plot.

Soon enough the icons representing Madrid and Agincourt swung in the right direction. In the ten or so seconds, a pair of enemy frigates vanished and one of her one changed her color to amber, announcing heavy damage.

"Jump." The Captain ordered.

Moments later, the reality itself shifted, making everyone on board feeling a profound sense of sheer wrongness. As soon as it started, the event was over and the three human ships were in range of their prey. Wasting no time, automated sub-routines kicked in. Weapons tracked their assigned targets and opened fire faster than an unenhanced human grain could process the FTL event.

The closest enemy cruiser stood no chance. The old ship flew apart after a single alpha strike. In the same time, the secondary weapons of the human cruisers were busy brutalizing the six enemy frigates acting as escorts. Two of them died before their crews knew they were in danger. The next pair suffered moderate damage while maneuvering out of range and only the last two got out unscratched. However, before running safely in FTL, two of the light ships managed to launch a salvo at their attackers.

Another pirate cruiser died, before the remaining two started hammering the human craft with their broadsides. The mix of Alliance and X-COM ships disregarded the incoming fire, plowed through the scattering remains of their destroyed targets and continued pouring death at the enemy. Their point defenses shot down all but two of the incoming torpedoes, which slammed in Madrid's nose, depleting her barriers. The next broadside shattered them and the cruiser flew straight in the next. Chunks of relativistic metal slammed themselves in the vahlenite alloy protecting the human ship. The armor held up well under the first volley. The next three salvos that struck before the enemy cruisers were silenced forever, were another matter. The first weakened the alloy, with shots from the second compromising the armor. The third bit deeply in the cruiser, shattering bulkheads and turning the forward decks into a slaughter house.

"Madrid reports heavy damage in her forward sections. Combat capability reduced to fifty percent."

"Ouch. They are to pull out. Agincourt are to remain on our flank. Navigation, plot me a jump right there..."

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **00:07, 16 January, 2176**

 **X-31 Spirit Interceptor**

 **Above Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"Damn, it." Major Chow grunted as missiles slammed in the barriers of his interceptor.

The situation was going from bad to worse. There were only two interceptors and a single Dragon strike craft in the area. They were trying to do their best to keep what little ground forces were still fighting alive as well as stop enemy reinforcements from landing.

It wasn't going well. There were frantic calls for air support or air denial strikes all over the place, not to mention the need to avoid flying at predictable vectors, to make it harder for enemy orbital strike to shoot them down. Fortunately, that was a tough job for the pirates, because their GUARDIAN lasers didn't have the juice to really harm his machine after passing through the atmosphere. What was keeping the major at edger was the probability of kinetic strike. Unless such shot landed very close, he would be safe.

The district he was flying over at the time, less so.

Unfortunately, while the enemy didn't have any fighters, there was a real horde of gunships, which were trying to act as a CAP. While they were woefully lacking in ability compared to the human craft in the air, there were too many of them. They also had missiles that could lock on and actually hit his interceptor, though the damage they did was rather low. That was the only reason why he was still in the air.

"Razor-1, this is Achilles Actual. We'll have partial control over the PDG in five, ten for what's left of the ODG."

"That will be appreciated. Any word on reinforcements?"

"Unknown."

"Roger."

Chow put his interceptor in a dive, heading for an enemy tank column which was wrecking havoc in downtown. How the hell did the pirated got their hands on that much equipment, damn them?!

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **Alliance Codex: X-COM Capital ships**

 **Subsection 1, Dreadnoughts;**

 **Class: Bastion Dreadnought;**

 **Manufacturer: Rubicon Fleet Yards;**

 **Roles: Fleet Command ship, Suppression of enemy forces, Orbital support of ground forces;**

 **Commissioned: 2144**

* * *

 **Technical specifications:**

 **Length: 2571.4 meters**

 **Width: 883.1 meters**

 **Height:693.2 meters**

* * *

 **Engines:**

 **6 Mitsubishi Sunfire-11 Ion drives; multiple maneuvering thrusters;**

 **4 X-Tech Messenger "Gravity wave" drives /also knows as inertialess drives. While they do not cancel inertia, the drive units create a "drive field" around the ship which allows to redirect the vector of the inertia. This provides unparalleled maneuverability; while active, the drivers could be tweaked to reduce the mass within the so called "drive field", however that is at the expense of the speed of inertial vector redirection. This combined with conventional Ion drives and internal dampeners allows for unparalleled acceleration and sustainable speed;/**

* * *

 **FTL drive:**

 **1 X-Tech Hermes XZ-3 Warp Drive /55 ly day/;**

 **Shielding: Rheinmetal Kyber 05 Kinetic Barriers;**

 **Armor: Between 250 and 350 centimeters of Vahlenite Alloy;**

 **Sensors:**

 **Radar, LIDAR, Spectroscopes; hyper-wave sensors;**

 **Power plant:**

 **10 X-Tech Hercules Elerium Reactors; 10 X-Tech X24E Elerium Generators /secondary/**

* * *

 **Armaments:**

 **2 Ares series PAC - spinal mounted / for long range anti-capital ship warfare and assaults on hardened space facilities; Primary long range armaments/**

 **2 Hades XO-21Z spinal lasers;/ Primary long range armaments/**

 **1 Zeus Class Railgun;/ primary long range armament/**

 **20 TM* Fusion lances;/medium range energy weapons/**

 **40 TM* Dual-Plasma cannons;/close range energy weapons/**

 **10 TM* EMP cannons;/close range support weapon/**

 **426TM* Quad-Lasers /point defense and anti-fighter/**

 **45 Torpedo Tubes: 10 Front; 5 Aft; 15 Starboard; 15 Larboard;**

 **120 Rapier Missile pods /10 missiles per pod; secondary armament/**

 ***Turret Mounted**

* * *

 **Aerospace and ground compliment:**

 **Rhino/ cargo transports; 2/**

 **Dragon Strike Craft;/1 squadron/**

 **Spirit Interceptors; /2 squadrons/**

 **Lancer Bombers;/1 squadron/**

 **Avenger MK VI assault transport/1squadron/**

 **Wraith /stealth transport; 2/**

 **Predator HWPs /modular/**

 **Manticore APCs**

* * *

 **Crew:**

 **Total Crew - 7,641**

 **Naval Crew - 4,521**

 **Marine/X-COM ground troops – 3,117**

 **Intelligence - 3**

 **Additional:**

 **AI Claudia: X-COM Vahlen patterned Artificial Intelligence KLD 0941-VC1**

 **300 repair drones;**

 **Nano-forge; 8 Fabricators;**


	7. Chapter 2 Parts 1&2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Picking up the pieces**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1: Conflict resolution**

* * *

 **00:03, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"Duck!" I did as the voice demanded and hit the ground a moment before a hail of mass accelerator rounds flew through where I stood. Downrange someone cried in pain before the same man addressed me again. "You're welcome."

A glance was enough to tell me what happened. A Batarian had been sneaking up on me, though now he was a crumpled, bleeding mess. I turned my head and shouted a thanks to my rescuer, who turned out to be another alien, a Turian this time.

Great, at this rate I would have to turn in my X-COM badge. I was supposed to be killing aliens or at least drinking their boozie during R&R, not needing to be saved by them. Then again, those might be what remained of my old fashioned views.

"How did you end on this nice vacation spot?" I asked my rescuer.

"Work." He answered in a dry voice. "I'm supposed to be a liaison with you law enforcement. Name's Vakarian."

"Veil. Shepard, cover those civies and have them fall back. There's another wave incoming!" I shouted a moment after I noticed a bunch of Vorcha being herded our way. "So a cop." I nodded at my new acquaintance. "Is there a law enforcement convention in town by any chance?"

"Heh. No such luck."

Why did the name Vakarian sound familiar? I shook my head, returned to the task at hand and shot one of the advancing aliens before being forced into cover as my shields broke under the return fire.

A loud boom, followed by pained screams announced that we had a few less volunteers to work with.

"Spirits, they are getting slaughtered out here!" Vakarian exclaimed.

Huh. "I didn't think that a Turian would find it a problem, given your society."

"That's a damn stereotype even if it's mostly right. I've been a cop on the Citadel for years so I learned a thing or two about the other species. I know very well that even among your kind there is such a thing as civilians, though you people generally have the right idea, just like us." Vakarian's mandibles twitched in what I suppose was amusement.

"Well, yeah. To be frank, given what I remember from the war, after I was unfrozen I expected to be faced by society similar to what I was taught about yours. We still have some time to go."

"Finally, a rather sane species! Who would have thought that about you people?" The Turian smirked, I'm sure of it. "Though the lack of any support incoming is a black mark in my book."

"In mine too. Those bastard shouldn't have been able to pass through the planetary defenses, much less enjoy

"Gunships!" The Armorer shouted in warning a moment before I could hear the distinct whine of engines.

"Air support? AA fire?" Vakarian asked with a mild interest.

I checked my Omni-Tool. "We're jammed. Even if those were available I can't call them."

"It's the old fashioned way then."

"Oh?"

"Fire at them until they fall down, leave or we're dead."

"I had the same thought. Shepard, it's your turn to draw fire. Blue Girl, I want Warp on target after Armsy fries their shields..."I started snapping orders as the whine grew louder.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **00:22, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **SSV "Berlin"**

 **High Orbit over Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"Gravitational anomaly! We have a wormhole incoming!" The Sensor operator shouted.

"Rostov made it." The XO concluded and smiled viciously.

"All ships, clear the transit area!" Captain Michaels ordered.

Ten seconds later, reality warped and a huge, purple rift tore its way through space above Elysium. A moment later, the armored bow of the Dreadnought "Tokyo" emerged from the breach in space-time. Only about half of the gargantuan ship was through, when its sensors were stable enough to lock on target. A second later it opened up with its secondaries, filing space around it with fusion lances and plasma. Another moment passed, before missiles and blaster projectiles were added to the onslaught. Caught off guard, the pirate ships unlucky enough to be in range simply ceased to exist.

Then the behemoth was through and it started launching parasite craft. Two wings of Piranha Interceptors, soon followed by a wing of Dragon Heavy fighters.

Once "Tokyo" was out of the way, her escorts started pouring through the rift.

"Ma'am, Admiral Duboa's on the line, requesting status update." The Comm officer disrupted the silence, which had fallen on the bridge when the reinforcements arrived.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **00:25, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"What did you people do to piss the four eyes that much? Any self respecting slave raid would have broken off by now!" The bartender slash Asari commando shouted. She was taking cover behind the burning remains of a SWAT van, which was overturned in a desperate attempt to block the entrance of the shelter we were protecting.

That wasn't going too well. We managed to hold the position for the last half hour against multiple enemy waves, but that took its toll. We were down to five effective and four of us were wounded. The only one still intact was the SWAT sniper and that was because he was relocating after each shot. That left the rest of us up shit creek without a paddle. Shepard was to my left, laying prone behind a mostly demolished fallen column. To my right, the Asari, Ayethia or something like that, was taking pot shots with her sidearm at any Batarian who had the gut to come near her. The blue chick was doing great work, yet she wouldn't be able to keep it for much longer. Her black leather outfit was torn and bloody, a testament that even the Matriarch's significant biotics couldn't keep her intact against the onslaught that hit our positions again and again.

As for myself, the carapace armor and my enhancements were all that kept me together after going toe to toe with an another Krogan. My fingers ran over the control panel of the med-pack and I hissed as a cocktail of stimulants raced through my veins. For a moment the last engagement of this battle flashed in front of my eyes.

"Any word on reinforcements?" Vakarian, the last of our little group casually asked. I had to wonder how an X-COM operative, a human marine and a SWAT officer ended up protecting a shelter with the help of two aliens. It was a brand new future all right.

"Comms are still jammed."

"Ah. Pity. I hopped to attend my daughter's birthday next week."

"We aren't dead yet!" The Asari grumbled and shot a Batarian in the head before melting his face with a Warp.

"Two words. Right flank." The Turian, whose name I haven't bothered asking deadpanned.

I carefully glanced over my cover and winced. Another fucking huge lizard was approaching, with a small horde of Vorcha right on its heels.

"Anyone up to handling that?" I asked.

As if to answer my question, a sniper shot hit the overgrown lizard in the head, harmlessly dissipating over his barrier. The Krogan growled and sent a huge warp at the building which our sniper was using and then he waved at the Vorcha to lay some suppressive fire.

"Nah. I have a headache. You?" Ayethia asked, though she holstered her pistol and retrieved the shotgun.

"We aren't dying yet!" The Armorer, who was lying behind a nearby cover with the rest of the too wounded to fight, managed to croak loud enough for us to hear. "Look up."

I did so and grinned.

The sky was on fire with the contrails of orbital insertion pods and fighters burning for our location.

"So you're really crazy enough to pull this?" Vakarian asked. "I thought that those reports were exaggerated!" He gave me a flat look as if it was somehow my fault.

"Is there at least a single alien on this rock who isn't doubling as a spy?!" This came form Shepard, who sounded disgruntled.

"Yep. I'm sure that at least a few of the maidens working in my bar are here just for the experience and make some credits." The Asari helpfully chirped.

"You're all aware that the cavalry will arrive well after those bastards have finished killing us all, right?" Shepard muttered.

"Yep."

"Yes."

"Yeah."

The three of us chorused.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **Part 2: Mopping up**

 **00:23, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **In the skies above Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

Major Chow had to enter a sharp dive, nearly crashing into an inconveniently placed skyscraper. He was forced into that almost suicidal maneuver after his shields gave up under the abuse of two enemy frigates, which were in the vicinity in order to at least keep the skies neutral.

They were more than successful. Matthew and the few other pilots who managed to launch were able to provide only sporadic support to the be leagued defenders of the city. Even now, as he weaved through the skyscrapers of the financial district, doing his best to keep out of LOS from enemy lasers, he could see through his sensors dozens of gunships pouring fire at ground positions or simply trashing the place.

The fact that unless the major wanted to die for no real gain, he couldn't do more than snipe at the odd enemy flier that was unlucky enough to stumble in his path, made him furious. Only after triggering the medical suite build into his flight suit to disperse the necessary drugs allowed him to keep his attention fully on the task at hand by making unnecessary distractions as anger flow to the back of his mind.

That was the only reason why the sheer fury he was feeling at the invaders didn't make him do something rather foolish and regrettable, like trying to take on one of the frigates head on. While he did have the armaments to eventually kill such a ship by himself, outside of a very lucky shot it had to be a dead of thousand cuts for the enemy escorts.

Chow pulled up a moment after his sensors screamed a warning. It was just in time too, because a series of GUARDIAN shots passed through the space his Spirit was supposed to occupy. Even with his last moment maneuver, two laser beams briefly touched the armor of the Interceptor, leaving melted gorges in the alloy.

"Damn it, this is a job for the fucking Dragons, not a head hunter like me!" The Major hissed as warnings flooded his HUD.

For once his luck was positive, he lost only some armor. Not to mention that a second later the shields reinitialized and started rapidly rebuilding.

Another warning blared, this time from the long range sensors which were monitored by the VI assisting in flying the Spirit. Chow acted on reflex and brought up a small window in the upper right of his HUD. A glance was enough to have him grin like a maniac.

There was a huge friendly contact in orbit and it was lighting up local space with its targeting sensors.

The Major returned his attention to the task at hand. Soon enough he wouldn't have to worry about those frigates or their friends in orbit. That meant that he was finally free to help whatever was left from the grunts on the ground.

The view in his HUD shifted, highlighting gunships and enemy ground units. Mathew's grin widened and he went on the hunt.

First to go was a flight of gunships, which simply hovered over a long avenue and blasted anything that moved on the ground. Their pilots never knew they were in danger, before Chow triggered his weapons. The closest flier got disintegrated by a plasma burst a moment after the Spirit's laser canons burned through its two buddies, sending them crashing to the ground.

Another pair of downed gunships later, the sky above Olympus lit up by dual explosions as the enemy frigates were blasted from orbit. Mathew didn't need his sensors to know that a relief force was already in reentry. That massive friendly signature could only be a Dreadnought or Carrier and either of those would have made a short work of a rag tag pirate fleet. Well, what was left of it at any rate. He somehow doubted that the System Defense fleet had been shut down like the planetary defense grid. Which in turn meant that all this time, the enemy had been tangling with the Navy.

Sure enough, an incoming transmission, strong enough to cut through the jammers set by the enemy within the city, confirmed his suspicions.

"OD Minus Three. Hold position. Aegis on call in One."

Well, there was a problem with that. The enemy jammers were still going strong and whoever friendly was still alive down there obviously didn't have mil-spec comms to call in support. All contact with the city proper had been lost the moment the ECM started blanking the area. At least the reinforcements that were dropping two minutes after the air support should be able to call targets.

If they weren't on Elysium or one of the other few worlds that freely admitted aliens, targeting wouldn't have been an issue. Even an interceptor like the Spirit had good enough sensors to distinguish human life-signs from extraterrestrial ones. So in that case target acquisition would have been much simple.

Unfortunately, blowing up the supposedly friendly ETs was frowned upon… even if you swore that it was by accident.

At least Mathew was free to shoot up any enemy flier or armor on the ground, which he gleefully did. It was just after he gave the plasma treatment to a tank that definitely wasn't a Human built, when he flew over a square littered with wrecked and burning vehicles. What made it stood out was the emerald plasma bolt that flew from one of the upper floors of one of the buildings overlooking it.

Making a split second decision, Matthew abused the drive of his interceptor, bleeding off speed in such a manner that would have seen him squished if it wasn't for the inertial dampeners. Even with them, he felt the push of deceleration rather acutely. A sharp turn later and the Spirit back over the square, hovering omniously above the wreckage. He zoomed in and frowned.

It was an active warzone down there. A couple of humans and two aliens of all things were guarding some kind of entrance. There were few hundred bodies strewn around, most apparently killed while trying to kill the defenders as well as what appeared to be the bodies of SWAT members and civilians.

Matthew smirked when he saw some alive invaders first hand. They were led by a huge Krogan, who was glaring at him. The lizard was obviously in charge of a bunch of spiky, ugly as sin bipedal aliens, who were ready to overrun what was left of the friendlies.

The Krogan shouted something, perhaps a challenge. The major responded by pressing the trigger of his plasma canon.

He had heard that the Krogan were supposed to be the toughest bastards in Citadel Space.

This one was obviously not tough enough to tank the Spirit's canon.

Mathew turned his attention to the spiky ones and opened fire, before instructing the VI to open a channel to the reinforcements. Those people looked like they could use all the help they could get.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **00:26, 13 August, 2176 AD**

 **Athena District**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

 **Vetus System**

"No heroic death for us. Not today at least." I shrugged after that God sent fighter blew up the Krogan and his buddies. The plane wagged its wings at us and shot up with a while that used to give me nightmares, before I got shot in the face and the world changed while I slept.

"It's always better to be an alive hero." Vakarian muttered. "Dead you're only useful to the enemy."

"Amen to that."

"I third the sentiment." Ayethia muttered. "The Goddess can wait to embrace me for a few more centuries." She added quietly. Then the Asari grinned. "It would have been a hell of a way to go."

"You're all insane."

"Blame my pops. He was a Krogan." She shrugged.

"I find myself with an odd lack of surprise." Vakarian commended in a dry tone.

"Chill out Shepard." I admonished her. "You were eager to charge into the fray earlier. Too eager in fact." I frowned at the wounded woman. "Once you saw that the invaders were Batarians you almost went berserk. What gives?"

"What's this? Are you my analyst now?" Shepard grumbled then added a grudging "Sergeant."

"Not my aspiration in life. I had to go see a shrink after they thawed my ass. You did well kid and it would have been great if you have kept your head into the game. No need for blue over there to save your ass that way."

Shepard glared at us and kept silent.

I shook my head at her. This wasn't the time. I glanced at the secluded area where we had heaped the wounded when it became too dangerous to risk moving them within the shelter itself.

"Watch my back." I said aloud and pulled myself up with a grunt. While my carapace armor managed to stop more than a few mass accelerator rounds, that left me feeling as if a pissed off Berserker had used me as a stress relief.

I was barely able to make my way there, when the first pods started impacting nearby.

The bloody cavalry was finally on the ground.

"You're late and missed all the fun!" I shouted at the armored soldiers, who wasted no time in peeling themselves out of the flying coffins they used as a delivery vehicle.

"Veil! Didn't I tell you to stay out of trouble?!" A familiar voice exclaimed.

"Anderson? Do you know that maniac?" Shepard managed to croak from her position.

"Franks, Tilly secure the perimeter." Anderson ordered aloud.

"Call in the medics, we can catch up later." I shouted after taking a good look at the wounded. A few looked too far gone for even modern medicine to be of much help, with most of the rest not being too far behind.

"You're one to talk." An armored figure, who had to be Anderson grumbled after waving and omni-tool over me. I never heard him approach."You know that you're shot, right?"

I swear, he was glaring at me behind the visor of his helmet.

"Multiple times, the carapace saved my ass." I nodded.

"That's not entirely correct. What mods did you get?" He asked with a hint of concern.

Uh, oh. I took a good look at the pitted and dented armor I wore. Huh. There was blood leaking from below it and I never felt the wetness, much less as much pain as getting shot should warrant.

"Kelly, get the medics over here yesterday!" Anderson shouted, before returning his attention at me.

I blinked in confusion, finding myself sitting with my back propped on a smashed car.

"Delkatar, look at me and stay awake. How did you meet my protegee anyway?"

"Who?" I blinked owlishly, wondering what the hell was happening.

"Damn, those stimulants made him not feel the wounds. Even with the mods he almost bled out." An unfamiliar voice butted in.

"I miss being shot up with plasma. No bleeding, though the burns fucking hurt." I grumbled.

Something pressed to my neck and I knew no more.


	8. Chapter 2 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Picking up the pieces**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3: Aftermath**

 **05:44, 13 August 2176**

 **Lawson's Penthouse**

 **Sydney**

 **Australia**

 **Earth**

A piercing, ear rendering alarm tone dragged him back to the world of the living. For a moment Jack groaned and blinked in confusion, trying to focus his eyes. Then his training kicked into high gear and he bolted upright in bed.

Thanks to his implants, he didn't really suffer from hangover, though the ungodly hour of the morning he went to bed did have his effects. Even the newest XCOM toys couldn't really remove the need of sleep, though stimulants helped in that regard.

Jack groaned and activated his Omni-tool. He knew that alarm tone very well, he had chosen it because it was one of the most offensive he had ran into and in his opinion it could awake the dead.

Considering how he felt that morning, that was a rather good thing.

His left hand was enveloped by an orange hardlight construct and two big blinking buttons appeared. He pressed accept and a screen was projected above his arm.

"Major Harper, report to HQ ASAP. The Commander wants to see you."

"I'm on my way." A suddenly wide awake XCOM agent answered. His vacation being interrupted by an order to meet the Commander yesterday could only mean trouble.

A fast shower and change of clothes later, Jack was leaving a message for his host and friend, who he had no intention of waking at this hour. While he was doing that, Jack was in the kitchen, getting a hasty made cup of coffee, before dashing for the garage, where his rented aircar waited. He planned to drive to the nearby military base and catch a flight from there, one he arranged, while getting dressed. The fastest they could prepare a transport was thirty minutes, which meant that he had a bit of time to kill before leaving, because the base was rather close.

At least that meant he could afford to wait for a cup of coffee.

"Uncle Jack? What are you doing up this early?" A rather sleepy voice muttered from the door.

Jack glanced up and smirked at his half-asleep goddaughter. Miranda, who frowned at him, before bee-lining for the fridge.

"I should be asking you that. Aren't you teenagers supposed to sleep all day?"

"Only when we were up all night." She scowled. "What was that racket anyway?"

"Alarm."

"It was awful!"

"That's the point."

Two bleary eyes glared at him.

"It's not my fault you obviously forgot to switch on the sound dampening on your room, kiddo."

"Jerk."

"You noticed? I'm flattered. Its all in the job description." Jack smirked.

"What are you doing up anyway?"

"Duty calls. Speaking of which… Stephanie, news feeds, unusual happenings in the last twenty four hours." Jack addressed the VI running the penthouse.

"Searching… Data points found. Listing by relevance… "A holo screen materialized over the far wall. "BREAKING NEWS! PIRATE RAID ON ELYSIUM!" That message appeared on multiple small smaller screens, showing feeds by all major news networks.

"Goddamn it!" Jack spat. He had the sneaking suspicion that he would have to deal with that mess.

 **=SF=**

 **07:23, 13 August 2176**

 **XCOM HQ**

 **Location Classified**

"This is a bloody mess." The European Federation's representative on the Council, Howard Stanton muttered.

"What a charming understatement." Prime Minister Kelly Yamada stated. "This… raid caught us all with our pants down, that's for sure. How the hell did they shut down the planetary defenses?"

"That was an inside job. I already have one of my best people investigating that fiasco." The Commander announced. "They had the command codes needed to shut down the system and force it into diagnostic, and self-repair mode."

"There are just a few people who have access to those codes. Some of them are in this room." That came from Lora Fidgerald, the North American Alliance's representative.

"I'm well aware of that." The Commander deadpanned. "That's why I'll be sharing nothing about that particular investigation until we're all cleared."

In another time and age, such a statement would have been considered outrageous by many of the politicians present either in person or virtual form.

After the Etherial war and the Exalt backed attempt for a coup a decade and half later, XCOM had grown in power and statute to such an extent that when it really wanted, it could freely step on the toes of the Alliance members which in theory were in charge.

In reality, that wasn't really the case for more than a century. For all intents and purposes, the organization had grown to be an Alliance member in its own right, one of the most powerful too.

Something the governments it was supposed to answer to, naturally resented, making for some rather "interesting" conversations and backroom deals.

That said, no one really liked the scrutiny, though the only thing protesting would have done was place them firmly on the top of the suspect list.

"The only good news is that elements of Third fleet arrived on time and while a few of the pirate ships managed to escape, we are fairly confident that they didn't make it out with captives on board. Needless to say, we're doing our best to track them down anyway." Admiral Steven Hacket, the current Fleet Admiral of the System Alliance's Navy, changed the topic. He was present via hyper-weave comm, from his flagship.

"Still, this is a rather black eye for the Alliance as a whole." Sung Mi, from China added.

"Perhaps. On the other hand, the Navy did stop the attack cold, that's more than the Council could say for most raids on their outer colonies." Anita Goyle, the Martian representative mused. "At any rate, we'll need to formulate a proper response. Such a slight can't go unanswered. I trust XCOM is on the ball?"

"We are." The Commander nodded.

"On a different note, the political ramifications, especially at home will be significant." Stanton changed the topic. "Sol First will have a field day with the attack, though they will undoubtedly be vocal for a reprisal against any pirate we can get our hands on."

"We can deal with them. Out overly large pool of xenophobes on the other hand… Well, they would want all pirates dead too and will probably push for a war with the Council. Again." Yamada massaged her temples.

"Well, at least your party will be reaping some significant benefits too." Lora smirked. "Before coming here I was made aware of a certain report." She smiled at the Commander. "One of yours, a few marines, local SWAT unit and some volunteers protecting a shelter with faulty doors or something. Care to elaborate?"

The Commander groaned. "Is that report in the hands of the media?"

"I'll be surprised if it isn't aired soon. And no, there are no grounds on censuring it. Even if they were, I'll be against it. It can help mitigate some of our internal issues, though I freely admit that it will make some others… more touchy."

"Commander? Care to enlighten us?"

It took him a few moments to give the bare-bones to the Council.

"So, an Asari, a Turian and that fella you thawed last year ended up as heroes. We can use that." The Prime Minister smiled for the first time after learning about the attack.

"A squad of marines, the local law enforcement and a lot of volunteers helped too." Admiral Hacket reminded her.

"Oh, all right. Your marines will get the credit too. You are aware how the game's played. The truth takes a second place to keeping humanity strong and stable. When the news of the attack really hits the public, it will be bad enough. Everyone will be spinning it to serve their own purposes and damn what really happened. We'll need to get on top of that. At least you all are well aware what a disaster a full scale war with the Council will be and that's what will happen if certain parties get into power during the elections next year."

"Even if we win, the Alliance will be wrecked worse than Earth was after the war." Hacket nodded grimly.

"We won't be starting a war against the Council unless we're confident of a victory." The Commander stated flatly.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 4: Consequences I**

 **10:15, 15 August 2176**

" **Hope Memorial" Hospital**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

"Anderson, it's good to see you again, LT." I perked up when I saw who my latest visitor was. "I thought it was another bloody reporter." I had to struggle to keep a frown from appearing on my face. Anderson was wearing a bloody parade uniform. For some reason that felt off.

"Those vultures won't let you alone?" He smirked.

"There I was, a poor clueless sod who though that the circus after they unfroze my ass was bad enough." I ruefully shook my head.

"There were distinctly fewer reporters after you back on Earth. Who would have thought, an old fashioned XCOM badass working with aliens to protect a bunch of civilians. I heard a rumor that some consider you almost a saint for that." Anderson didn't event try to keep the amusement out of his voice.

"Don't forget the idiots who consider me a traitor, because I didn't shoot people who volunteered to help. I'm not getting myself killed or starting an intergalactic incident to satisfy the lunatic fringe."

"We would have been better if that was the case. You may not have figured it out, but almost a third of humanity is like that nowadays, though I think that's a significant improvement from the post war years."

"I wouldn't know anyway. I was too busy being a Popsicle those days."

"Anyway, I didn't come for a social visit."

"I didn't think that you cleaned up just to visit little old me."

"Actually that's precisely the case."

Well, shit.

"What did our lords and master up the chain of command decided to do to me this time?"

Anderson grinned. "Well, you were a certified hero before and now that you proved that you can work with aliens, you became an even hotter commodity in certain circles or so the Major told me."

"What major? Which circles and how likely is that their attention will get me killed one of these days?"

"Major Harper, he's the poor SOB assigned to investigate this fiasco. Apparently, command used him to channel the good news as far as you're concerned and I just got drafted. Thank you for that by the way." His last words were dripping with sarcasm.

"You're welcome. So what's the torture requiring a full dress uniform?"

"Meals. Speeches by a lot of politicians. Backing in the sun while posing for all reporters in the nearby sectors, while listening to said speeches. Interviews. The full celebrity treatment. You're practically guaranteed to get yourself a fan-base and stalkers."

"Anderson, you're enjoying this too damn much for someone who's likely to be right next to me for the circus." I muttered after finding my voice.

"Of course I am. After the circus dies down, you're being assigned to my unit and we'll be hunting the bastards who attacked us."

"How did you manage that?"

"Called a favor or two. Besides all I did was get you into my platoon."

"I'm missing something. Care to share?"

"Some genius in the PR section decided that sending you after the pirates will help mitigate the fallout of the attack, keep the civies from thinking too much about how we got caught with our pants down. The last hero of the Etherial war being out there, hunting the xeno scum that dared attack us or some such deck. Last I heard they were still fiddling with the details."

I groaned and face-palmed. "You know what that means, right? I'll be getting one suicide mission after another!"

"The reward of job well done and all that."

"I simply went out for a damn drink! It's not like I planned some heroic last stand or something!"

"I'm sure that wasn't the idea. Though by weeks end, no one who don't really know you would believe that. As for the suicide missions, we're XCOM. Need I say more?"

"We get suicide missions for breakfast and then the real work begins." I chuckled.

"I have a private outside with a parade uniform and a box with all your medals. Orders. You're going to look like a damn peacock for this afternoon."

"Any other good news?"

"You still haven't told me whats your problem with Shepard."

"The kid's unstable. Once she saw we were dealing with Batarians, she nearly got berserk multiple times. If it wasn't for that Asari barman, she would have gotten her head smashed by a Krogan too."

"Damn. I was afraid of that."

"There is story here."

"She's from Mindoir."

"Never heard of the place."

"Right, you slept through that mess. It was one of our few more or less independent worlds on the fringe of human colonized space. No real defenses to speak off. Just a lightly armed militia with ME grade weaponry and hardsuits."

"Obviously that didn't work too well for them."

"No." Anderson scowled. "It won't surprise you to learn that the idiots got raided. To date that's the only successful pirate attack on a human world and even then it was a bloodbath for the bastards, though that was because a frigate patrol happened to be in the neighborhood. I was a wet behind the years sergeant then, on my first tours after becoming an NCO.

By the time we got there, most of the population was either dead or taken, though we managed to interrupt the pirates while they were mopping up and looting the place. It was during the SAR effort when I found her. Her family and neighbors were dead and she was covered with blood as if she has swam in the damn stuff. When the doc cleaned her up, he found a half imbedded slave implant in the side of her neck."

"I'll make an educated guess. She manifested her psionics and went on a rampage, that's how she made it out alive."

"That she did."

"I'll pointedly won't ask what happened with any non-existent unpleasant psych evaluations. I've been in a similar position." I closed my eyes. The only reason I didn't get myself killed after I physically recovered from the experiments, was a certain sergeant who straightened me up after my first field deployment with XCOM during the war.

"You know, now that I think about it, that's right. Though you weren't a teen, you've been through a similar shit and you're even somewhat sanish." Anderson smiled.

"You pulled more strings and Shepard's on the team too, right?" I groaned.

"Well, yeah. The Marine's were actually glad about it. Someone over there finally added two and two and figured out that she might not be all too stable after seeing the AARs. They were tickled pink that she would be our problem after the media finishes with you lot."

"You want me to help her."

"Oh, I'll be doing my best to straighten her up, but you'll have your hand full with Shepard too. She's a good kid who deserves better than being Section Fived."

"Am I to understand that she'll be in one of the squads I'll be running?"

Anderson just smirked. "It's time to get yourself presentable, Sergeant."

 **=SF=**

 **14:03, 15 August 2176**

 **Remembrance Plaza**

 **Olympus City**

 **Elysium**

"You too?" I asked the two familiar figures waiting near the hastily prepared podium on a barely cleaned up large square. Not too far away, a cordon of riot police, heavily augmented by marines, was doing its best to keep a huge crowd in check.

"I just got orders from the Executor. No tactical retreat from this nonsense." Vakarian grumbled.

The lucky bastard was actually wearing a slick looking, polished to gleaming armor. The rest of us were stuck in parade uniforms with the sole exception of the Asari, who wore a nice looking green dress.

"Despite my usual disposition, I'm a Matriarch. Sometimes you simply can't avoid the media attention." She rumbled, sounding anything but pleased.

"What did I do to deserve this?" A new voice added from behind me.

"Shepard, how nice of you to drop by. I guess that Anderson forgot to give you the good news?"

"Lieutenant, sir." Shepard turned towards the officer. "What did you do this time?" Her voice was deceptively sweet.

"Congratulation private. You're getting drawn by XCOM."

Shepard spluttered.

We weren't that bad, were we?


	9. Chapter 2 Parts 5&6

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 2: Picking up the pieces**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 5: Consequences II**

* * *

 **09:14, 18 August 2176**

 **X-COM Facility Theta 21**

 **Elysium**

A facility, just like hundreds of others strewn through Alliance space was buried under an otherwise unremarkable mountain range. It was hundreds of kilometers from the closest settlement on Elysium, close to the rather inhospitable north pole of the planet.

It was similar do most Alliance facilities, which weren't a bunch of prefabricated modules. It was painted dark green, almost black and boring gray, full with sensors and weapon emplacements on top of the living and synthetic guards protecting the people working within.

Deep within the central hub of the base, dozens of analysts were busy over their workstations. Major Harper gave them barely a glance as he walked past rows of bureaus littered with some of the best computer systems XCOM had. The analysts had already gotten the leads he needed and were simply checking and rechecking them.

That was more than good enough for his purposes as far as the beginning of the internal investigation went. Now it was time to check on the progress with the prisoners, which was almost as important. While it was imperative that XCOM and the Alliance cleaned up house, the attack on Elysium had to be answered and for that they needed a target.

Besides the regular pirates, which were either running or laying low after two whole fleets had released their lighter elements to hunt them down.

John reached the elevator's doors and waited for a bunch of scanners to make sure that he wasn't in fact something that had borrowed his face. A soft chime later the way was clear and he entered the cube of reinforced alloys that lead towards the section of the underground facility that held detention cells and interrogation chambers.

Two minutes and four more scans later, he stepped out only to face a pair of psi operatives in light armor, though most of his attention was caught by the two SHIVs hovering right in front of him. The machines floated to the side with a quiet whine, but the barrels of their plasma canons continued to track him.

"You need to be subjected to psionic scan if you want to proceed, sir." The trooper to the right stated.

"Understood. Go ahead." Harper nodded and closed his eyes as one of the operatives took a step forward.

While not the most pleasant feeling, it was standard procedure ever since XCOM had enough Gifted operatives running around.

First came the gentle brush of another mind against his own, then the subtle pressure as the trooper forced his way through the major's mental defenses. Then the maelstrom of images associated with someone pocking through his mind came, giving him a headache.

John knew that the scan would last less than a minute, yet it felt like an eternity as his head was pounding harder and harder, while the disjointed pictures coming to the front of his min were moving faster by the second.

Finally the pressure subdued and he could sense the other mind carefully pull back from his own. It took him a few moments to center himself, before accessing his Gift and checking if his mental shields were firmly back in place. Once he was satisfied with the results, Major Harper gave a sharp nod to the troopers and walked past them, heading for the interrogation chambers where the base commander was waiting for him.

Jack walked down a long, dark corridor, passing through two more guard posts, before he reached his destination. The perpetual dusk in this part of the base did nothing to obscure his vision thanks to the enhancements he had on his eyes, making the interior of the base seem rather bright.

The Major finally reached his destination, which laid behind an armored door made of Vahlenite. Another sensor pass, a handshake with his implants and he was let through.

Six large cylinders lined the far wall of the interrogation chamber, all of them holding at least one Batarian. There was a single Krogan in one of the detention cells.

The Major could see four humans in the middle of the room, clustered around a row of consoles.

One was a tall, brunet woman wearing a snow white lab coat.

She was the only one sitting.

Behind her stood a pair of soldiers in Atlas MK III power armor, armed with heavy plasma rifles to boot. The troopers were towering a head above the last occupant of the chamber, who was the general in charge of the facility. He was wearing simple dark green jumpsuit, with only the insignia on his shoulders showing his actual rank.

"General Korolev, sir." Harper saluted after the door behind him sealed.

"Major. You're just in time. We're just beginning our chat with our high ranking guests. I trust that my analysts efforts were up to your satisfaction?"

"Yes, sir. They managed to recover some interesting bits of data."

"Will it be sufficient?"

"It will make cleaning up our house go faster."

"Good. Doctor Libra, you can proceed."

"It will be a pleasure, general." The woman's pleasant voice echoed in the quiet chamber. Her hands flew over the controls and the show began.

Robotic arms extended from the ceiling above the Krogan who snarled and tried to fight them. In the next moment the lizard howled in pain as electricity ran through his body until the alien was brought down to his knees.

Soon enough, the Krogan was tossed up like a Christmas turkey. Then smaller, more agile appendages appeared, carrying various medical instruments. A laser scalper ignited and started carving the flesh of the captive around his head plate.

The Interrogator pressed another button and all sound from the Krogan's cell was cut off, leaving the humans watch how the top of the alien's head was carved up so various electrodes and sensor probes could be implanted in his brain.

"He's stable. We can proceed."

 **=SF=**

* * *

"That's negative, Commander. While we got a rather long list of targets to hit, none of our captives knows who was behind this attack. We can confirm that individual ships have resupplied or sold slaves in border Hegemony worlds, but not that they massed in Batarian territory prior to the attack on Elysium."

"Major Harper, you're being attached to one of the task forces which will be hitting the targets uncovered by the interrogations. You'll be going after those promising biggest intelligence windfall, long standing pirate bases and such."

"Understood, sir. What about the internal investigation?"

"Section One will continue handling the case. Colonel Travis will be in charge from now on. If you uncover additional intelligence in that regard, you're to send it to his team."

"Yes, sir."

"One more item, Major."

"Sir?"

"There is the possibility that the Council facilitated this attack in order to test our capabilities. If you discover any information proving such eventuality, make sure that it's wrapped thigh before transmitting it. Do you understand?"

"It's crystal clear, sir."

"Good. Dismissed.

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **Part 6: Consequences III**

 **13:20, 15 August 2176**

 **Council Chambers**

 **The Citadel**

It was a small, tastefully decorated room. From the ancient wood paneling, the antique Asari, Turian and Salarian furniture to the few technological articles designed so they would seamlessly meld with the decor.

Tevos, the oldest serving member of the Council was sitting on a comfortable couch with her legs curled under her. He was sipping from a glass half-filled with a blue, sparkling drink that contained enough Eezo to poison a dozen or so people who weren't biotics. The Asari Matriarch had been holding her current position for the past two hundred years, though lately she had been entertaining thoughts about retirement so she could finally enjoy some peace and quiet.

To her right, the Salarian Councilor Ulmesh was busy browsing through data on his Omni-tool. He was an ancient specimen of his race and at forty five was on cusp of his retirement. While even his advanced age had done nothing to dull his mind, the Salarian was on his way to retirement, awaiting the arrival of his replacement by the end of the week.

The last member of the Triumvirate ruling most of the explored galaxy, Kirik Lorn was sitting next to the bar, drinking Turian Ale. He was the most junior Council member, holding his position for merely four years.

If one didn't know better, it would be easy to dismiss the three beings in the room as just a group of friends decompressing after a tough day of work.

Even if that comparison was technically true.

Kirik finished his drink and looked at his colleagues. "Any comments on the latest catastrophe?"

"Cut the Hegemony lose and watch." That was Ulmesh's immediate response.

"I'm up for that and I can assure you, the Primarch would love the idea." The Turian smiled.

"While the situation is quite volatile, there it doesn't lack opportunity." Tevos murmured.

"A nominal Council race was behind the attack on Elysium even if the Humans don't have a definitive proof yet. They won't let that unanswered even if we back the Batarians. That's something neither the Hierarchy or myself would condone." The Turian declared.

"If we don't intervene on the Hegemony's behalf it would mean war."

Tevos grumbled. She knew that while there were Matriarchs who would support kicking the Batarians out or even actually dealing with them, the majority of the Asari Republics were currently against any action that would rock the boat.

"Doing so won't prevent one." Kirik stated and Ulmesh nodded emphatically.

"We have some images from the space battle captured by STG Q vessels in Utopia. It seems we've significantly underestimated the effectiveness of the Humans energy weapons and their range in space. Their vessels are tougher than expected too."

"They lack the numbers to take us on. We might be able to persuade them to stand down." Tevos said.

"Given their history, that tall odds against them won't stop them. This time they have the technological advantage, unlike the war century and a half ago." Kirik grumbled. "If they think it necessary, they Humans will fight us too in order to punish the Batarians for that attack. Besides, you've all seen the polls. Even if their current government keeps the peace, it's likely that the next one would be voted on platform aimed straight at the Hegemony."

"Ulmesh..." Tevos muttered. "Do you want to tell us something?" The Asari Matriarch had been working with the crafty Salarian for more than a decade. She got to know him rather well during that time.

He had gotten a tiny bit easier to read in the last couple of years.

"Not particularly." Ulmesh muttered without looking up from his Omni-tool.

"Really? So Spectre Bay and a few of his STG buddies were on vacation visiting Batarian border worlds and pirate strongholds?" Tevos smiled sweetly.

The Salarian paused hid data surfing and fixed her with his huge eyes.

"You didn't..." Kirik trailed off. The Turian felt like slamming his head at the bar. Repeatedly.

Granted, the STG were masters of undercover and deniable work. However, they haven't faced before people who had the capability to extract information from ones brain using what appeared to be Spirits damned space magic!

"Me?" Ulmesh sounded affronted. "Of course not! I simply made an inquiry or two, gave the odd suggestion..." He trailed off and smiled. "Just as I'm going to suggest that we finally kick the Hegemony out of the Council unless they finally clean up their act and provide some support to the Alliance in their pirate hunt. A Spectre or two who've been dealing with that particular problem lately could do wonders for our relations with Humanity."

"Besides by keeping their eyes open, those agents could give us additional information that we won't be able to get by simply observing the Alliance from afar." Kirik nodded. "I like that idea. Let's just hope that your non-suggestions never get to the Humans. At best that would give them some political bargaining chips. At worst..."

"Damn you both." Tevos muttered. "The rest of the Matriarchs will have my head unless this conflict is averted."

"Then you're screwed." Kirik nodded sagely and was immediately followed by Ulmesh who even grinned at her, the cheeky bastard.

"You're both in agreement, I take it?" The Asari groaned.

"The Batarians are out." Ulmesh was suddenly damn serious.

"Yep." It was Kirirk's turn to smile. "You know very well that the Hierarchy had been pushing for this course of action for a long, long time. While we can take on the Humans, it will be a long and bloody war. One we certainly won't be starting on behalf of a Spirits damned slavers."

He didn't add that if a war started between the Hegemony and Alliance, the Primarch would be tempted to send a fleet or two to help the Humans clean up that blight upon the galaxy that were the Batarians.

Tevos frowned at her colleagues. She had the sneaking suspicion that the usual threats of economical sanctions and pointing out the protection the Hegemony enjoyed thanks to some ancient laws that were still on the books would fall on deaf ears. Especially as far as the Turians were concerned. They were wanting to go after the Hegemony for the last two centuries and only her deft maneuvering coupled with support from the Salarians had kept them at bay… Something that had been getting harder and harder as time went by. The Asari knew that sooner or later, the Hierarchy would simply ignore the Council's directives, accept whatever sanctions they would be hit with and unleash their fleets upon the Hegemony. The only thing that had kept the peace in the last century or so had been the Batarian restrain in not hitting Turian worlds and their focus on the Humans after they appeared on the galactic stage.

Needless to say, that didn't make the Turians any more agreeable with the Batarian policies.

The less said about how the meeting with the Human ambassador concerning the attack on Elysium went, the better. The only concession she got was that the Alliance wasn't going to attack the Hegemony without evidence… an evidence that would be to the Human's satisfaction, not the Councils. With the Alliance moving in force against known pirate bases, it was only a matter of time before they got enough information indicating that a lot of those outlaw bands were sponsored by the Hegemony, even if not outright proving that the Batarians were behind Elysium. However, Tevos suspected that would be more than enough for the Humans. Unfortunately in some respects they were worse than the Turians even if common sense had prevailed so far, avoiding conflict between the newcomers and the Council.

Tevos closed her eyes while massaging her temples. In the end she served the Asari Republics and they didn't want a war. She had to do her best to avert it.

Even if she agreed that it was a high time that the Batarians got slapped on the wrist for their stunts.

"Let's not be hasty. A war between the Alliance and the Hegemony could easily draw us in on either side. That's not something in the best interest of the Council."

"The Turian Hierarchy will have to respectfully disagree." Kirik flashed her a toothy grin.

"The Salarian Union will remain neutral in a conflict between the Hegemony and Alliance."

Tevos narrowed her eyes. This wasn't simply her colleagues seeing an opportunity and seizing it. Her centuries of experience in politics painted quite a different picture. They had the backing of their governments in this instance, she just knew it, even if her various sources hadn't heard even a whisper about it, which in itself was disturbing.

The Asari had been playing a careful balancing game for millennia, one which kept them as the most advanced and politically powerful force in the galaxy. Subtly pitting the Salarians and Turians against each other on the political arena helped a lot in that regard.

Their governments reaching what appeared to be an informal agreement to throw the Hegemony under the airbus, without her learning about it earlier, didn't bode well. She needed to run some damage control.


	10. Chapter 3 Parts 1&2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 3: Retaliation**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1: The reward for a job well done**

 **14:55, 24 August 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **In transit**

 **En route to Ophelia**

 **Exodus Cluster**

"LT, sir, what exactly did I do to piss you off?" I asked Anderson after we reached his quarters and the door sealed behind us."Or did you simply annoy the brass?"

"My bet is on the brass being peeved off with us for one reason or another. Then again, I can simply blame this situation on your new found celebrity status. Shepard can take some of the blame too."

"Anderson, you were the one pulling strings to get us here as you cheerfully informed me in the hospital."

"Yeah. In hindsight, that might have not been one of my best decisions."

"You think?"

"At least most of the platoon are good people."

"And how are we supposed to run it with me as the only NCO? You know that my only experience with the job was during my training course and this is my first posting in space. While I did a lot of progress in familiarizing myself with this bright future of ours, I'm sure that there are still things that you're all taking for granted that won't really cross my mind. Things that might get people killed if overlooked. There is a reason why I was slotted for a garrison tour after my R&R on Elysium."

"The thought crossed my mind. I've seen your evaluations."

"Me too. I should be able to handle the job if there's an experienced NCO to show me the ropes or something like that."

"We were supposed to be stationed on a cruiser, augmenting a company of marines. One of their sergeants was supposed to make sure you know what you're doing." Anderson sighed. "On the bright side, I used to be NCO not too long ago, so I'll be showing you the ropes and what to do on a ship so you won't accidentally space yourself." He smirked.

"Gee, sir. Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You're welcome. Lesson time. As you might have figured it out, today both XCOM and the other branches of Alliance military run on paperwork. At least everything is in electronic format these days..."

Well, this was going to suck. At least the troops should have some fun squaring their gear under the supervision of the corporals running the fire-teams of the platoon. Luckily for me, at least the latter were all experienced, at least on their second tour.

 **=SF=**

The next few days were rather "interesting". Fortunately for me, Anderson really knew what the hell he was doing and showed me a lot of little tricks that they didn't teach me during training, yet made my life much easier. And yes, there were indeed some things that you really shouldn't do on a ship unless you wanted to get a lot of people killed.

On a related note, Anderson confirmed that the Alliance and XCOM vessels ran on Elerium and paperwork, with the latter apparently being more important for the smooth running of any vessel or so the brass insisted.

With the boring, but apparently vital part of my duties explained and more or less handled, that left the more "interesting" aspect of my job as an NCO – dealing with the platoon of XCOM killers on board.

Fortunately, Anderson was right about them. They were professionals with a reasonable amount of experience for a peace time soldiers, which was good. Because, while I actually had a trick or two to show them, things that we used during the war, but for one reason or another weren't SOP nowadays, I had a lot to learn too.

Then there was Shepard. While her marine training and psionics made her rather formidable in a scrap, she really wasn't up to XCOM level even before you got into her issues. That's why she's been stuck in VR training with her new fireteam for the most of the time since arriving on board.

Corporal Franks had a lot of good to say about her rate of advance… if there weren't simulated Batarians on the opposing team. Then she tended to lose it as often as not and do something rather dumb and suicidal.

When an XCOM trooper describes someone's behavior as such, you simply need to take a notice.

That's why once I made sure that the platoon was squared, I was stuck in my small office reviewing the VR records of Shepard's training. Skimming through her performance in the scenarios containing four eyed bastards was enough to make a few of my old war buddies seem saneish.

Well, I should have known better. Getting my first tour as a sergeant and ending in an exemplary platoon without problem children? Heh, that was wishful thinking at best, though the behavior of the troopers under my charge made that actually believable. We were already five days out of base, approaching our first target and they all were surprisingly behaving. Then again, that might have had something to do with the fact we didn't let the boys and girls get bored. There were the standard things – equipment maintenance, keeping in shape, though all the gene mods and cyber implants made the latter much easier and faster than in any army not augmenting their personnel in such a way. A lot of VR and Psi training for those with the gift.

The fireteam leaders handled that job exemplary, with only a modicum of input from Anderson or myself. We really interfered only to show them a trick or two, or on the two occasions we ran platoon wide exercise in the hold.

The crew wasn't too thrilled about that.

All in all, it was a rather calm journey, giving me a chance to start growing into my new found duties.

There was only that fun command challenge of dealing with Shepard.

I sighed and shut down the VR recording. It was time to put my nasty sergeant pants and start acting as one.

 **=SF=**

 **AN: This part was betaed by Mighty Bob on the Space Battle's forums. Thank you for the time and effort you put in cleaning it up!**

 **Part 2: Welcome to X-COM, leave your sanity at the door**

 **17:20, 29 August 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **In transit**

 **En route to Ophelia**

 **Exodus Cluster**

I stared at the red head on the other side of my plain, mass produced desk, examining her as she was some kind of rather rare and perplexing curiosity. Which she was from a certain point of view.

Shepard was calmly looking back at me, standing at parade rest. She was probably wondering why I called her for this little chat, something that only highlighted the problem. I was pretty sure that she didn't see anything particularly wrong with losing it at the sight of Batarians and going after them with extreme prejudice. Or if she did, she had no idea how to handle the issue.

While I did in fact agree with the general sentiment, having no love lost for the slaving bastards, usually going berserk at the sight of them wasn't something that even the good old X-COM could condone, much less the rather more level headed version of today, which incidentally happened to be our employer.

Not to mention the little fact that her stunts were a great way to get good people killed…

Now, how to deal with the problem? I knew that if I'd risen through the ranks in a more conventional manner, I might have the experience to already know how to approach the current issue. Considering that my situation was anything but normal, well yeah. This was going to be "fun". To make my life just a bit more interesting, Anderson was quite unhelpful in this instance too, because apparently he was interested in the way I was going to deal with this leadership challenge.

He had probably asked our resident AI to patch him into the cameras in my office so he could watch the show too. Joy.

At first I considered playing the role of your typical hardass NCO, that was supposed to work with green privates when they fucked up, though I suspected that it might not be the best way to approach my current problem. If my reading of her personality was even close to the mark, such an approach simply wouldn't work as far as the four-eyed freaks were concerned.

"Shepard, why did you join the marines in the first place?" I asked. "And don't give me the spiel that the average Alliance recruiter wants to hear."

That question caught her off guard. Shepard just looked at me, with a confused expression on her face. "I want to protect Humanity." She muttered after almost a minute of tense silence. "I don't want what happened to Mindoir to happen to anyone else."

Huh. That actually I could buy, though it surprised me that she mentioned her homeworld. I was well aware how touchy that topic had to be for her.

"You aren't doing a particularly good job of it. It was a pure luck that you didn't get yourself killed on Elysium with your reckless charges. The less said for your VR training the better."

Shepard flinched at that. Good.

"Batarians. What's your problem with them beyond the four eyes being a bunch of slaver bastards?"

Something dark passed through her eyes at the mention of the galaxy's least liked members after the Ethereals. For a split second her face twisted in a hateful grimace, before she could school it back into a blank mask.

Oh, boy. The girl had problems all right. I've seen that expression many times during the war. Some of them were when I looked myself at the mirror while thinking about the enemy.

I swallowed a sigh. With some more training and a little experience, Shepard would have fit into most XCOM units during the war. No one would have batted an eye at her stunts then, we all had our issues and sometimes we did dumb things to get at least a few more of the enemy.

That was the issue, really. Even if the Batarians were murderous bastards, which I hoped would be dealt with in due time, Shepard's current attitude was unacceptable. Don't get me wrong, I didn't care if she hated them or the rest of the Council races if she could remain professional despite that.

That was something X-COM and I could work with.

Shepard usually losing it when seeing a Batarian in VR, much less in the flesh, was something else.

"My problems with them?!" Shepard muttered after looking at me strangely for a few seconds. "You saw them on Elysium! You know what they do!"

"Certainly. And I hate them for it. Yet, you don't see me flying into rage when dealing with the wankers. That isn't something I could say about you. Hate, loathe the bastards to your hearts content. As you've probably noticed, a lot of the platoon shares that sentiment and even expands it to most aliens." I shrugged. Most of them wouldn't mind getting into an Asari's pants despite disliking or outright hating aliens on general principle. "That's not an issue for them. They could remain professional no matter what their personal feelings about our enemies." I paused for effect. "You can't and unless that's fixed one of these days you'll get good people killed just to get some personal satisfaction. That's unacceptable!" I roared the last words.

To my surprise, my words actually had some effect, though I was unaware if they achieved what I was aiming for. Shepard was busy looking at the deck and refused to meet my eyes.

"Talk to me. What's your problem with the Batarians? It's definitely more than the stunt they pulled on Elysium." My tone of voice brook no argument.

"I'm from Mindoir." Shepard glared at me.

While that meant a lot, primary thanks to Anderson filling me in on the bare-bones version, I decided to play dumb.

"You mentioned that before. Is it supposed to mean something to me?" I asked, playing dumb though there was more to it. I've seen the official reports of that debacle. If that wasn't the whole story and it had been in fact orders of magnitude worse, it still couldn't compare to what we saw and experienced during the war.

"It was my homeworld. It was raided by the Batarians."

"Continue."

"Shit. I don't want to talk about it." Shepard frantically shook her head.

"It was bad I take it. Probably one of the worst messes after the war ended, right?"

She gave me a sharp nod.

"You obviously survived it, once. Yet whatever happened is still haunting you. I can see you in your eyes. In the way you act when confronted with Batarians. Are you going to let them win after all this time?"

"What? Hell no! They won't get me again!"

"Shepard..." I sighed. "Do you think you're the only one haunted by the past? We have that much in common, we've walked through hell and come out on the other side. Yet, the scars are still there. The question is will you let what happened break you, to kill you or your buddies when you inevitably lose it in a firefight? It might very well happen on our current mission when we deploy in two days."

Frankly, the girl could use a shrink. Me to, probably, though I had a lot of mandatory visits during my training.

That begged the question how many strings Anderson had to pull in order to keep her in the marines and then transfer her to X-COM. Every psych evaluation from someone competent would have covered what happened on Mindoir. These weren't the desperate years of the Ethereal war. Both X-COM and the Alliance at large could afford to recruit reasonably sane personnel.

Then again… What would have happened to Shepard if she had been found lacking during her evaluation for joining the armed forces? There was more to this bloody mess than met the eye. Even if Anderson obviously had a soft spot for the girl, letting her join the army and now X-COM wasn't doing her any favors.

I would be having a pointed conversation with the LT when I wrapped up this mess.

"I wouldn't do that!" She exclaimed after spluttering at my accusation. At least riling her up was somewhat amusing, though this was neither the time nor the place for that. Besides, considering the topic of the conversation, it was rather inappropriate.

"When you're in your right mind, sure you won't, Shepard. However when you face a Batarian in the VR you go berserk and attack them with no consideration about anything else three out of four times. I just finished reviewing the records before calling you in here."

"I… But… God damn it!" Shepard exploded and started cursing good enough to make at least a few sailors blush. Most of her expletives included Batarians and various anatomically impossible things which Dr. Vahlen would have loved to try on them for shit and giggles.

"You've been made aware of the issue by Corporal Quin, I believe. Yet, you continue to lose it when facing Batarians."

"I can't help it damn it! Every time I see one of those freaks I remember what they did to my family! What they tried to do to me! Everything goes red and I simply need to tear them apart! Is this what you want to hear, Sergeant!? I can't help myself! I want them all dead!" Shepard shouted.

"Welcome to the club, Shepard. How do you think I feel about the Ethereals?" At least she finally stated her problem aloud. It would be a good first step to fixing the problem… if I was a bloody shrink.

Right now I felt like strangling Anderson, that prick.


	11. SF Interlude and CH 3 Part 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 3: Retaliation**

 **=SF=**

 **Interlude: The Systems Alliance and X-COM**

 **=SF=**

 _Login: Insight  
Password: ****************_

 _Login successful… Scanning…_

Authentication complete…

"Welcome Major."

"Hannah, bring up Project Contact. Continue from last save point."

" _Loading file… Have a nice day, Major."_

"Let's see..." The X-COM analyst muttered to himself while the holographic screens above his desk came to life with images.

He had his work cut off for him.

"Whose idea was to make our own Codex anyway?" The man grumbled.

 _Codex Entry: The Systems Alliance_

 _The Systems Alliance_ is an independent supranational sate representing _Humanity_ as a whole to the galaxy at large. It's charged with the protection and management of all extrasolar colonies, stations and installations.

 _The Systems Alliance's_ origin could be found in the aftermath of the _Exalt_ _Uprising_ ten years after the Ethereal War's conclusion. It precursor grew by necessity out of the surviving _Earth_ governments as a matter of practicality. In the wake of a genocidal war, followed by insurgency, _Humanity_ was faced with exploring, exploiting and colonizing the _Solar system_ , a feat that proved prohibitive to any single economy on _Earth_.

In order to ensure the long term security of _Earth_ , _Humanity_ needed the resources and opportunities that space represented. After the _Ethereal War_ , doing so was the natural outcome. Everyone in power on _Earth_ knew what needed to be done, though the nation states of the time simply lacked the resources to do so by themselves.

With humans knowing that aliens not only existed, but are hostile to _Humanity_ , there was enough political will to form the framework for a single world government. The idea was further expanded with suggestions given by various _X-COM_ think-tanks, until the _Earth Alliance_ , the organization which became the _Systems Alliance_ fifty years later was formed.

Still, until practical commercial FTL become available in the mid seventies of the previous century, the _Earth Alliance_ was often disregarded by the citizens of _Earth_. Many at the time viewed the organization as an unnecessary one, especially given the high popularity that _X-COM_ did enjoy at the time. That was further exasperated by the fact that _X-COM_ had overlapping functions with what the _EA_ was mandated to do.

With the proliferation of FTL and the establishment of the first extrasolar colonies, the need for governance and defense of those new assets became clear. _X-COM_ by itself, simply lacked the resources and numbers to do so effectively even within the _Sol system_.

It was during the _Toronto Conference_ of 2083, when the _Systems Alliance Charter_ was first proposed. After multiple amendments and alternations, it was finally voted and accepted by the Earth Alliance members and came into power in 2094, formally establishing the _System Alliance_ as the governing body of _Humanity_ at large, the creation of the _Systems Alliance military_ , consisting of the _Navy_ , _Marine Corps_ and _Army_ , as well as the new duties and responsibilities of X-COM.

 _Do you want to know more?_

"Hmm… That might do. No dirty laundry to show and everything's basically common knowledge. We aren't shoving anything sensitive in a souped up Wikipedia. What's next? Oh, our own entry..." The Major continued muttering to himself. "Is there besides rumors I'm free to add? Hannah, I need you to check something, dear." He addressed the Administrative AI overseeing this section of X-COM.

" _How can I help you, Major?"_

"What are we cleared to put in our own Codex entry? I obviously missed that memo."

 _Codex Entry: The Extraterrestrial Combat Unit_

 _The Extraterrestrial Combat Unit_ , known at large as _X-COM_ or _XCOM_ , was a covert multinational military force established to investigate and if needed combat the increasing UFO activities in the early twenties of the 21st century. It is an independent organization charged with combating any alien threat.

At its inception, _X-COM_ combined some of the brightest scientists and engineers who could be persuaded to join as well as elite soldiers and pilots from all of Earth's major powers.

When the _Ethereal War_ began, it soon became apparent that conventional military forces were vastly outclassed by the enemy, needing a significant numeral and material advantage to stop an attack. That was something often impossible, because the enemy SOP was to usually take out any heavy equipment with air strikes. That combined with regular orbital bombardment of military bases and concentrations of regular forces, left the _Human armies_ at a significant disadvantage long before engaging alien ground units.

There were many things attempted to mitigate those enemy advantages. One of the more effective options, which soon became a SOP was the creation of _X-COM Quick Reaction Units_ , which deployed by _Skyrangers_ all over the world.

While with a few notable exceptions, _X-COM_ suffered casualties that would be considered catastrophic by any other military force in Humanity's history, they kept on replenishing their ranks with veterans and deploying on missions that were often seen as suicidal.

Despite what some thought at the time, _X-COM's_ strategy wasn't madness aimed at wasting lives. Instead it was a cold blood calculus, spending some of Humanity's best soldiers in order to gain even the tiniest scrap of alien technology for reverse engineering.

In the end, that was a strategy, which paid off in mere months with the first iterations of practical man portable Gauss and Laser weaponry soon followed by personal armors incorporating Vahlenite alloys. That allowed _X-COMs QRUs_ to face the enemy on more even footing, which in turn made possible to recover even more alien technology. While the balance never really swung in _X-COMs_ favor before the war's apocalyptic ending in 2034 during operation _Clean Sweep,_ the technologies created by _X-COM's R &D_ divisions were invaluable for the victory in the _Ethereal war_ and _Humanity_ 's survival.

Today, _X-COM_ is a quite different beast even if it still has similar functions as in the past. It continues to be an independent organization, something that is guaranteed in the _Systems Alliance Charter_. One of _X-COMs_ primary functions today continues to be Research and Development, primary concentrating on alien derived technologies and their application for the military.

Following that trend, the _X-COM_ operates various ships, which serve as testbeds for new technologies before they are adopted by the _SA Navy_ at large. Their fleet is the single most powerful and technologically advanced force _Humanity_ possesses.

While the organization does possess its own fleet it's mandated size is to be no more than a tenth of the combined active Systems Alliance Navy during a peace time.

Military, _X-COM_ follows a doctrine first implemented during the _Ethereal War ,_ though it is being constantly updated and refined. The organization concentrates on small elite units, usually acting as QRF and fist responders. Those units are the backbone of the _Systems Alliance's Lighting Response Doctrine_.

 _X-COM_ troopers usually act as special forces, scouts and specialists often being deployed in support of _System Alliance_ military operations.

Strictly speaking, there are two functions that are new for _X-COM_ compared to the organization during the war. The first is the already mentioned possession of a fleet, with all that entails.

The second is their dealings with _Psionically Active_ individuals. _X-COM_ holds monopoly over training and monitoring of people with _the Gift_ and is technically in charge of policing them. The latter usually includes _X-COM_ agents being stationed at each major city and settlements with notable _Gifted_ populations, though they usually act in concern with local LEO agencies.

"It's short and bland..." The Major mussed. "However I can't really ad anything more without either including rumors, trivia or skirting classified territory." After all, everything X-COM did was on a strict need to know basis with the sole exception of the policing of Gifted individuals, which when all was said and done was a law enforcement problem.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3: Souping up for a night out**

 **13:25, 31 August 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **In transit**

 **Ophelia System**

 **Exodus Cluster**

"What about Shepard?" Anderson asked.

"She's with Gamma for the diversion. I'm not trusting her to keep her cool anytime soon." I shrugged.

"The last two VR simulations were better." The LT mused.

"Well two days of constant VR with Batarians was going to either drive her totally around the bend or make her work through her rage and start using her head." I frowned. "Occasionally. What? I'm not a shrink, boss."

"Go get kitted up. We'll be deploying in two hours. Platoon inspection in thirty minutes."

"Yes, sir!" I saluted and left Anderson's office.

A few minutes later I arrived at the main armory, where the rest of the platoon were busy arming and armoring themselves.

"Sergeant, any new orders?" Corporal Quin asked. The tiny Chinese woman wad clad in a form fitting Recon Armor and was busy checking up a Reaper MK VI plasma sniper.

"Not yet. The LT will be dropping on us shortly so look sharp people. I'll be inspecting you in fifteen. Be ready by then."

"We'll be." The Corporal nodded, while giving a pointed look to a pair of operatives.

"Allister, Thorne I want none of your usual shenanigans, you read me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, sarge! That wasn't our fault!"

"Of course not. You two were just in the wrong time at the wrong place… again. Right?" I rolled my eyes. I guess that polishing the starboard cargo deck with their toothbrushes wasn't enough to deter those two jokers. Damn clowns. What did I deserve to get two unrepentant pranksters under my command?!

"That's right, sarge!" Thorne, rumbled and beamed at me. Under his heavy assault armor he looked like a great metal bear, something that was only reinforced by his two meter height.

"Finish suiting up and no stunt or I'll be getting creative." It was too bad that nowadays they couldn't be dumped in Dr. Vahlen's lap for scientific purposes. That would have made my life easier.

I glanced at Shepard, who was browsing the weapons, ignored the banter and headed for the armor section checked out a Mindifre armor. It was the spiritual successor of the Psionic Armor that was available back during the war, though it was light years from that kludge. For instance, while it was classified as medium power armor, it offered protection that would have made the old MECs envious. More important were the build in Psi amplifiers that would increase my raw power by at least an order of magnitude, not to mention allowing me to throw psi attacks for much longer than otherwise.

I got off my clothes, leaving me only wearing my thin skinsuit.

I stepped in front of one of the free cradles in the far end of the room. Blue light flashed over me as I was scanned. A chime was heard before compartments slid open, revealing the pieces of the Mindfire. Robotic arms unfolded from the ceiling and placed unfolded armored boots in the center of the cradle. I took a step forward and got my feet inside. The boots clicked and folded up around my legs, locking over the skinsuit. Then the robotics arms went to work and started fitting me with the armor and sealing it up around me.

I cringed as static washed over my implants while they were busy hand-shacking the Mindfire's interface. Then the helm was locked in place and I was plunged in darkness for a few seconds before all systems finished greeting each other and the armor came to life. My face was bathed in green light as tiny holo-emitters built on the inside of the face plate came to life and made it seem that there weren't three centimeters of Vahlenite alloy between my face and the outside world. The HUD flicked on, showing power levels, armor integrity, shield strength and so on. A moment later the transparent IFFs of the already armored troopers were overlayed over a tactical map in the upper right.

 _Mindfire MK V online… Running diagnostics…_

 _Armor Integrity nominal… Shields active…_

 _NBC protection nominal… Reactor active…_

 _Medical suite online and operational…_

 _Sensor suite operational… Psi-boosters on standby..._

 _Diagnostics complete… Mindifre MK V fully operational…_

With that done, I went to the weapon racks. First, I got a heavy plasma pistol and secured it to the magnetic grapple on my right thigh before retrieving four magazines for it. Then I went to browse the fun stuff.

My choice for today's fund and games was a Heavy Plasma rifle with ten power cells, followed by the usual mix of grenades – two frag, two smoke, a pair of EMP and two plasma.

Once everything was squared, I took the time to look over the platoon. Most troopers were already kitted out, with the last squad being on the cradle and getting suited up. Only the two MEC pilots were missing as expected, with their fitting facility being in the hangar, near the drop ships. That's where our SHIV contingent and the combat AI running them were located too.

At a first glance, everyone looked like they were kitted out properly, with nothing important missing. Anyway, neither Anderson or myself were going to take any chances and that's why we were both going to inspect the platoon before we boarded the transports.

It simply wouldn't do to find that we've misplaced some important piece of equipment when we needed it in the field. In my experience, that usually tended to be fatal.

 **=SF=**

By the time Anderson came in for the inspection, everything was squired, the troopers were properly kitted out and I had checked up for everything that I could think off. The LT shared my opinion that the platoon was ready to eat aliens and spit Elerium, though that didn't really calm me down. If we both missed something it was guaranteed to bite us in the ass at the worst time.

Anderson gave an once over to every one of us, a few words of encouragement or a joke before going on to the next trooper until everyone has passed muster. That was as the LT put it, being an officer one oh one. Be the good fella as far as your troops are concerned and leave to the sergeants to be the nasty bastards.

I had avoided needing to be the latter so far, but that was a testament for Anderson and the previous NCOs skills rather than any endorsement of my abilities.

When the dog and pony show was over, we went to the hangar, where our two MECs were patiently waiting. They were two and half meter tall behemoths protected by heavy Vahlenite plates and powerful shields. One was armed with a powerful particle cannon and carried an array of indirect weapons integrated into his suit. The other doubled as a mobile AA emplacement in addition to his heavy plasma gun.

Next to the MECs I could see three SHIVs, which were hovering nonchalantly. The mini-tanks were armed to their non-existent teeth with a combination of weaponry, from old fashioned but still powerful laser lances to alloy canons and a lot of plasma weaponry. They were rather well protected too and bristled with various sensors as well as a couple of small scout drones, which were armed too.

When all was told, we had the firepower, toughness and staying power to easily take on an entire armored brigade from the "good" old days and easily win… and we were a simple, even if elite infantry unit.

I shook my head as Anderson waved me forward. It was time for the final briefing before we boarded the transports. Despite all our toys it wouldn't do to underestimate the enemy and get cocky. All it would take would be one lucky bastard or a trooper who didn't take the job seriously enough.

"Andrea, please show us the AO." I addressed the Combat AI who was going to accompany us on the ground.

The figure of a woman armored like a medieval knight shimmered into existence above the closest SHIV.

"Here you go, sergeant."

A blue flash of light followed and a holographic map materialized in front of me.

"If any of you had for a change paid attention to the briefing, our target is in the middle of an asteroid. Our friends in the Intelligence division managed to give us only the location and a very rough layout of this facility. It's a pirate base that usually tends to frigates and the odd cruiser. We're to go in, take out the the outlaws while trying to capture alive whoever's in charge and allow Andrea to take any important information before we make our way out and blow up the place."

"What the Sergeant didn't spell out is the inconvenient fact that we don't know what resistance to expect or who's actually our primary target. That's why our Gifted specialists will conduct field interrogation on whoever we get alive after breaching the enemy base and securing ourselves a foothold. That would give us a chance to actually get whoever is in command over there instead of accidentally or not so much evaporating the sorry bastard. While we usually go on missions with much more intelligence than this, time is of the essence in this case. As some of you might have heard, we're about to be assigned a Council liaison in the form of a Specte agent. As per our current ROE, once they're here, we'll be playing softball, downplaying our actual capabilities unless the situation gets critical." Anderson gave me a curt nod.

"Board the Wraiths and strap up. We're departing shortly." I ordered and waved the platoon to the two waiting Avengers, which were taking most of the hangar space.


	12. Chapter 3 Parts 4&5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 3: Retaliation**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 4: This ain't Tortuga!**

 **15:21, 31 August 2176**

 **Strike One**

 **Wraith Alpha One**

 **Ophelia System**

 **Exodus Cluster**

"We're two mikes out. No sign of detection yet." The pilot's modulated voice sounded through the troop compartment of the stealth transport.

"You know the plan. We breach, secure any surviving prisoners and sit tight while the specialists conduct field interrogations. Strike two will widen the beachhead and made the scum concentrate on them. Any questions?"

"How can I get out of this outfit?" Thorne asked, while somehow managing to look innocent despite the heavy armor he was wearing.

"If you insist I can boot you out of this bird and let you find your own way home." I smirked.

"Nah. And miss the comfy ride in the old girl!" He shook his head. "Not to mention the splendid naval food."

"I'll give your compliments to the cook when we're back. He hasn't succeeded in poisoning us yet and that's always good in my book."

"Not for a lack of trying..." Someone muttered.

"You've obviously haven't been stuck for months with couple of decades old MREs… Lucky bastards."

"I heard that they weren't half bad in you time."

"The Russian ones were." I deadpanned. Those two months sucked. They made a few folks wonder how a baked mutton would taste…

"We're on final approach!" The pilot announced.

"Lock and load. We're going in." I ordered. "Keep the safeties on until land."

The Wraith shook as its weapons spoke, carving a path through rock and steel straight to the dock of the pirate base. Then it redlined its engines and slammed into the breach, shacking us in our harnesses. The sound of scraping metal rang through the troop compartment, making us cringe.

Then we were hurled sideways as the transport came to an abrupt stop.

"Go, Go, GO!" I shouted, while releasing my shock harness. The two SHIVs closest to forward ramp roared to life. They sent a pair of smoke canisters out the moment it started lowering. At the same time, I could hear the hsss-craack sound of the laser guns built in the front of the Wraith, which were giving us some much needed covering fire. It was soon joined by the distinctive retorts of plasma weaponry and the odd crack of ME guns. The MEC assigned to Strike One moved out next. His multiple independently targeted weapons were scanning for any pirate unfortunate enough to be still waiting for us.

Quin's fire-team was out next. They dashed out, using the smoke and heavy units as cover. Then it was my turn. I followed suit, with the second squad of Strike One hot on my heels.

When I stepped into the pirate base moments later, the docks were already secure. The few outlaws who were present either died after the sudden breach and decompression, were obliterated by the guns of our transports or ended as a target practice for the SHIVs.

Score one goes to surprise and overwhelming firepower.

"Bring me anyone who's still alive. Quin, secure the perimeter." I ordered, before allowing myself to look around. The dock was built into a massive cavern excavated into the asteroid. It was reinforced with a lot of metal and it had slips for at least four frigates to land inside.

If this was a small time pirate operation, I this future was much more messed up than I was led to believe. Unless this had been an abandoned facility found and appropriated by the pirates, the sheer resources needed to construct it spoke volumes for their capabilities and financing, even if the place looked rather run down and ill maintained.

There was actually a frigate parked in the middle slip, which accounted for the most shots by the Wraiths. I could clearly see where it's hull had been surgically sliced by laser blast, making sure that it won't be leaving any time soon. Further, it's GARDIAN clusters appeared to be shot to pieces, which was only prudent.

I didn't relish being caught on the open by that kind of firepower. It could very well be rather final.

The SHIV's of Strike Two choose that moment to appear from the other side of the Frigate, followed by the other MEC, though the rest of the unit was conspicuously missing.

" _Securing the Frigate. Interrogate any prisoners and start clearing up the facility."_ Anderson pinged me with new orders.

It wast time to have a little chat with our reluctant hosts.

"We have a live one over here!" Our MEC, Sanders, sent from near what appeared to be a control tower. The place looked rather shot up from here and I could see a dissipating cloud of smoke coming out of its windows.

"Splendid. I'm on my way." I spoke in my comm and jogged that way. "Quin, take the MEC and one SHIV, and start securing the base. We'll follow ASAP."

So far so good. I hoped that I would finish the interrogation before the next shoe dropped.

We were X-COM. No operation that started that smoothly ever ended that way too.

 **=SF=**

Jogen Kloss, "formerly" from the Batarian Intervention Unit, was in his so called office, in the depths of the Flotsdam station. His four tired eyes were glaring at the softly glowing terminal, which was providing the only light in the room. It illuminated a crystal glass filled to the brim with brown, bubbling liquid.

The Blitz had gone to shit, with all but a handful of ships dying to either the defense squadron or reinforcements, which had turned before it could be overwhelmed. Ten of the biggest pirate outfits in Batarian space and Terminus systems had signed up for the raid, drawn in by promises of advanced technology, slaves and an opportunity to put the newcomers in their place.

Instead, Kloss and his colleagues had to explain this debacle not only to their superiors, something that was always hazardous for one's health, but to what remained of the pirate syndicates that took part in that ill fated adventure.

Jogen grunted a curse and reached for the glass of iced ale waiting next to the terminal and downed half of it in a single swing. The bitter taste suited his mood just fine. He felt like strangled the idiots back home who had thought up this whole fiasco and ordered him and a few of his buddies to facilitate the damn mess, even if he had agreed at the time.

There were more than a hundred ships in the armada! Even most Turian colonies would have buckled under such assault and the defense grid at Elysium had been sabotaged to boot! Dealing with the defense squadron should have been a simple affair, overwhelm them from long range, swoop in, took everyone and everything not nailed to the ground and FTL out, before heavy reinforcements could arrive.

Instead of reporting the expected glorious though probably somewhat bloodier than expected victory, Kloss was left with piecing a picture of what had actually happened from the conflicting reports of the few survivors that made it out before the Earther's in the nearby fleet node came in to mop up what the supposedly outgunned and doomed defense squadron had left of the assaulting armada.

To him at least, it was clear that the Humans had somewhat better tech than anyone suspected. However, thanks to the pounding any survivors had taken, he lacked the hard facts on what exactly had happened on Elysium, leaving him with assembling a report that was more fiction than anything else.

He didn't have anything juicy for his Salarian contacts either, which didn't bode too well for his retirement fund… something he might need to use soon.

Jogen glared at the open text document on his terminal. It was high on speculation and very low on facts. So much for his lucrative job as a commander of an out of the way base. And to think that the benefits were so nice – a lot of money he could take a percentage of, a pick of some delectable Asari slaves and all the good booze he could afford.

Up until now, Kloss had to admit that this had been the sweetest posting ever. He hadn't have to risk his life in two years! Not at all like his escapades as an SI operative back home.

Jogen was busy lamenting the cruel fate, that seemed determined to fuck up his sweet gig, when the whole station shook, spilling the rest of his ale all over the desk and almost shoving him out of his comfortable chair. A moment later, he was bathed in the glow of the emergency lights and nearly deafened by the blare of alarms.

"I'm going to kill those idiots!" Kloss hissed, believing that the dock hands servicing the only ship currently residing in Flotsdam had fucked up spectacularly.

It wouldn't be the first time either.

Jogen surged to his feet and headed for the door, when the station shook again and made him lose his footing, throwing him over an open container chock full with choice drinks.

Kloss roared in fury after he felt a lot of expensive booze crunching under his weight.

Someone was going to die for this!

Slowly!

 **=SF=**

 **Part 5: Mindgames**

 **15:33, 31 August 2176**

 **Strike One**

 **Flotsdam Pirate base**

 **Ophelia System**

 **Exodus Cluster**

"Pick him up and patch that sump. We can't have him leaking to death until I'm done with him."

"On it, sir!" Maia – Strike One's medic sprinted towards the captive – a Turian who was missing his right leg from just above the knee. I could see a few smoking pieces of debris sticking out from his green hardsuit.

It was a good thing that all Alliance medics carried a bit of dextro-meds to patch up prisoners in need of interrogation. Naturally, the official reason was humanitarian purposes. Let me tell you, we in X-COM found that rather amusing. Besides, the ploy did buy is a bit of good will with the Council and the alien public or so they told me during the NCO course which did include a short class in galactic politics.

I walked to the unlucky bastard and looked him over. He was Barefaced. It meant that the pirate didn't have markings designating his colony of origin – you didn't get much lower on the Turian's totem pole.

Allister picked up the captive like he weighed nothing, making him scream in the process. Maia slapped a med-pack to the Turian's neck and bandaged the stump of his leg so he wouldn't bleed out.

A mental command that was read by my armor was enough to bring the psi-amplifiers built in it to full power. I stared at the Turian and concentrated – becoming one with my power. My perception expanded and I could feel every mind around me.

I could feel the Turian. He was in pain. Scared.

I smiled at him and brushed the surface of his mind, making him recoil in shock. Fear turned into terror. I could sense his thoughts. He was starting to believe all the terror stories that were told about humanity in general and X-COM in particular.

I felt his natural, almost non-existent mental shields and _pushed._ They simply shattered. His willpower was insufficient to even slow me down. Just like that I was in.

His thought patterns were strange – alien as one might expect, yet the way his thoughts were shaped, his personality… They weren't too different from that of a human. That itself was strange. I remembered touching the means of the Ethereal's slaves. Of Ethereals themselves – all of them had much less common with us than this pirate, whose mind I was busy ravaging.

That was a thought for another time.

I pushed further, slashing through the Turian's personality and went straight to his memories, making him remember what I needed.

I was bombarded with myriad of pictures and used his mind – Gerd Valdonis was his name – to make sense of it. There were a lot of Batarians here, a handful of Turian outlaws and a few Salarian engineers who were doing their best to keep the place running.

I pushed harder. I needed numbers, equipment, the face and location of whoever was in charge.

Gerd started convulsing as the pressure on his brain increased, but that didn't slow me down. I didn't have time to be careful or precise, instead I was brute-forcing the information out of his mind.

I saw the image of an armory flash through our linked minds and brought it back. A lot of rifles and shotguns, a few grenade launchers an a pair of missile launchers. I could see various grenades and breaching charges – all that a prospective pirate would need, if they had to fight their way through a ship whose crew decided to resist.

I pushed again, going deeper. Valdonis started moaning and trashing under my ministration, but I didn't care. He was one of the bastards facilitating an attempt to enslave humans.

Here. A grumpy looking Batarian in a pristine black hardsuit. I frowned. That one didn't look like a space pirate. His bearing was different. Gerd had recognized it – no matter where he was from, the Turian had been through some extensive basic training before leaving.

I didn't care to dig that deep. It was irrelevant right now.

I concentrated on the Batarian. He was a trained soldier – on the face of it, that wasn't surprised. A lot of former Batarian military types turned to piracy and other fun activities after discharging. It was a well known fact through out the galaxy. That also made it harder to pin attacks on the Hegemony. After all, every major species, even ours, had their rotten apples.

That's why we needed some hard evidence. Enough to at least convince our own Parliament that the Hegemony was behind Elysium.

I dig deeper, searching for additional information. A name – Jogen Kloss. That was our quarry.

Next I saw the face of an Asari. She didn't appear to be a maiden, though she looked young. If she was a matron, she would have been running this place, unless she was a guest waiting for something.

No. Second in command. I pushed again, slamming more and more power in Gerd's mind. Elin. Only name. Powerful biotic, preferring shotguns, loving to get close and personal.

She might be a trouble too.

I went deeper. I needed numbers.

Valdonis' mind started fracturing and I used even more power, trying to get as much information as I could before he became useless.

Faces started flashing before my eyes. His Turian buddies. A few Batarians he liked. That irritating Salarian armsmaster.

Something broke. The pictures became twisted, disjointed. Gerd's mind simply blinked out and I was left trying to process raw alien data.

That bloody hurt. I hissed in pain and pulled back.

"It's done." I groaned.

Allister nodded and looked at the captive, who was limp in his hands.

"He's gone."

The trooper shrugged and let the brain-dead Turian fall into a boneless heap.

"Put him out of his misery." I muttered and concentrated on sending the image of the pirate's commander and his XO to every X-COM operative on site.

"I want them alive for interrogation. Missing limbs are of no consequence. There should be about thirty or so pirates on site." I grunted. Mindraping the only enemy survivor on the docks was exhausting and made my head pound. At least that was promptly fixed by my armor injecting me with a mild stimulant-painkiller cocktail. "The Asari is a powerful biotic. Approach with caution. The pirate leader has military training. Don't underestimate the bastards."

I sighed in relief as the meds started working.

"Allison – leave a SHIV here with Thorne. I wast this part of the dock secured until the frigate is cleared. Then get new orders from the LT. The rest form on me. We're going hunting."


	13. Chapter 3 Part 7

**AN: This part was betaed by **ProdigiousThunder on the space battles forums. Thank you very much!****

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 3: Retaliation**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 7: We're X-COM… What did you expect?!**

 _One might think that all the niffy tech we've had since the dawn of the twenty second century would have changed the face of ground warfare._

 _In a sense, it did. Today we field trans-human super soldiers – clad in power armor, carrying plasma, laser and rail-guns – they are chock full with implants and genetically improved far above the human base form… AI controlled drones and even "magic powers" are part of our arsenal._

 _Despite all that, it came back to troops in the ground when you want something retrieved or secured._

 _Many experts believed that expendable drones and AIs would change the face of warfare… They were correct too – for a time. There was such a period back in the eighties of the past century. Soon enough other advancements in technology ensured that any drones which could be actually useful on a modern battlefield simply couldn't be used in sufficient numbers to do the job by themselves…_

 _It came back to price – a properly trained and equipped alliance soldier is very expensive, true. However, unless commanded by an AI, such a trooper could reasonably expect to destroy enough drones before going down to break even in monetary terms… Sometimes even win from material POV – and that was before we dumped hundreds of billions in anti-drone and SHIV research – something that the Citadel races had been busy with for a long, long time too._

 _Then there's the Third Geneva convention, which among other notable things was the first official document ratified by the Alliance designating AIs as full blown citizens and naturally laying rest to any ideas of building an "expendable" force controlled by our synthetic children. While AIs support and are indeed a part of our armed forces, they simply couldn't be placed into drone bodies and sent into combat by themselves to preserve human lives. Not any longer. Couple that with all the ways to disrupt communication channels and that put to rest the idea of using remotely controlled drones._

 _That left VI's and simple automated systems – which while undoubtedly useful, simply can't replace soldiers on the modern battlefield. There're various weapon systems that excel at disabling drones and other automated systems, while at best moderately compromising a human soldier's capabilities. Today's troopers are strong enough to operate even with a power armor dead around them - something that allows them do deal with any similarly affected automated system before it could recover from the effect._

 _Another reason for keeping flesh and blood soldiers were psionics – well the increasing number of psionic people among our population. The Gift is a game-changer on many levels. After all, while Psionics are most effective against biological sapient beings, there are a lot of "tricks" that are hard to counter by anything but another Psionic – a fact that by itself levels the playing field between flesh and blood soldiers and a purely synthetic force…_

 ** _An extract from "Warfare in the twenty second century"_**

 ** _Alliance Military Press_**

 **=SF=**

 **15:43, 31 August 2176**

 **Flotsdam Pirate base**

 **Ophelia System**

 **Exodus Cluster**

"Sarge, there's something in the walls scrambling the scanner!" Kelly grumbled.

I fired up the muti-purpose scanner built in my armor and waved my left hand over the closest exposed piece of rock. "Eezo and a lot of heavy element traces." I muttered to myself. Before being turned into base, this asteroid was probably a mine. That had the obvious benefit of already existing tunnels to put stuff in as well as the bonus of messing up with scanners. No wonder that someone decided to built a base in here. In fact, I doubted that this was originally a pirate hideout – it was probably a former military facility that had been abandoned some time in the distant past. After all, until we appeared on the galactic scene, this region of space hadn't been of much interest.

That explained why the passives on our way in were less helpful than expected too.

"We'll do it the old fashioned way. Look out for traps and ambushes. Kelly continue on point. Beta formation."

The trooper shrugged and moved slowly down the corridor, following the drone's path. His motion translated into a subtle movement of his arms – the armor he wore wasn't built to express body language after all, even if it was surprisingly agile despite its bulk.

Quin followed a few meters behind the point man, with the next trooper being an equal distance back. In theory that should allow most of us to survive if anyone got cute with explosive traps.

I trailed behind them, concentrated and accessed my Gift. While I had mostly recovered after Elysium, I wasn't still at one hundred percent as far as Psionics went. The quick interrogation didn't do me any favors either – I should have been able to keep my Gift up during this whole operation without straining myself. Instead I was already moderately mentally exhausted. While the armor boosted my power significantly, it didn't help as much endurance wise. Not after I came close to fucking up my brain with that rift stunt.

The good news was that I could feel four alien minds nearby. Even pinpoint their general direction.

Of course there was a bad news too. I touched the closest alien and tried pushing only to find myself slamming headfirst into a mental fortress. The mind shields of whoever I struck, a woman I think, shook under my onslaught, but bounced me in a quite unpleasant way.

That was something that we don't advertise – the Ethereals and even some Sectoid Commanders, didn't appear to suffer a backslash if they failed to breach into a normal person's mind… We humans, often weren't so fortunate - especially when we weren't at our best.

I stumbled as my mind bounced off of hers and my perception fully returned back to my body without a warning – and eerie and uncomfortable experience, that brought a rather nasty headache as a free gift.

"Sarge, are you all right?" Quin asked.

"Backlash. Four unknowns – one with strong mind." I hissed and shook my head, which made it worse.

"That could have gone better..." Maia muttered. I glanced up on my HUD. Sure enough, the medic was behind me and was probably checking my vitals. She didn't elaborate so my brain wasn't going to start leaking through my ears or something.

There were a few… "accidents" during psi training back in the no so bright past, not to mention the various _interesting_ stories I was told during the advanced courses I had to take after my NCO training.

Kelly was almost at the T-shaped intersection at the end of the corridor, the drone had went first – seeking any threats, detecting none – and the trooper swung left. Quin moved after him, covering the right path. We piled in behind them and went down each way. We didn't need to leave a guard at this intersection – it was in plain view of our MEC who couldn't follow us in there.

I followed Kelly, while Quin was leading the other squad. When we neared the first obstacle – a sealed door, I grit my teeth and touched my Gift, sending my mind searching for enemies.

Sure enough – I could feel them.

"Contacts. Three unknowns, twelve o'clock. Watch your fire. Our prize is likely among them and there may be slaves in there too."

I didn't risk another direct mind intrusion this time. Instead, I concentrated and modeled in my head the sense of fear, of sheer terror. I could actually feel a shiver going up my spine as I infused my psionics with raw, unthinking panic and unleashed it into the general direction of the unknowns. While this was a far less potent mind attack than a direct or more targeted one, it didn't take as much out of me.

It was too bad that we had only a handful of average Psionics in the platoon beside me, and most of the rest were storming that frigate back at the docks. Otherwise I would have had a lot more tricks to play without being the one to play interrogator. As it was – we were doing things by the book.

Kelly blasted the door apart from a safeish distance – a prudent decision. His shots triggered a directional mine. The explosive was unlikely to hurt him, but it might have crippled his armor and given him a concussion if it blew up in his face. Instead, it simply showered him with shrapnel – hot and sharp enough to shred someone in a hardsuit, but woefully inadequate against Vahlenite power armor.

The scout drone wasn't so lucky. While it survived, it was struck by pieces of red-hot metal that damaged its propulsion unit. It started smoking and unsteadily landed on the ground. The small machine whined piteously, then promptly slagged itself to avoid capture – making painfully obviously that the IFF sensors were damaged too.

Kelly went through the smoking hole where the door used to be and swept left. I was next, sidestepping to the right and seeking targets. Maia and Allister entered behind me, moving in a hurry to clear the bottleneck.

To my surprise, there was a distinct lack of further resistance at the choke point.

I would have placed more explosives and auto-turrets if I had them – covered them with troops too. On the other hand, we did surprise the bastards and they apparently didn't really expect anyone unfriendly paying them a visit. Otherwise we would have had a much nastier time reaching this point.

It was just now that it registered where exactly we ended up in – a storage area, which was mostly filled up by standard Citadel type transport containers. In most places they were stacked up to the ceiling, which left just a few ways we could proceed from here. I could also feel the alien minds approaching.

It was a great place for ambush. It would take just one of those containers being chock full with explosives to ruin our day. If it was done properly, we were unlikely to detect it before the damn thing went off too – not unless we waited for half an hour for sapper drones to carefully scan everything in here.

Obviously that wasn't an option. First, the unknowns were approaching. Second, waiting would have given them time to set up additional traps if there wasn't one already waiting for us… if they had the resources in this part of the base anyway.

Charge in? Go carefully? Wait for sapper support? Wait for another Psionic and try taking them out that way? Either of those choices could be the right one or perhaps none of them. It's easy to say what should be done in any given situation in hindsight. Actually making the decision with limited intelligence and seconds to choose a course of action?

Suddenly I had a lot of appreciation for what all NCOs and officers had to do on a daily basis. If I fucked up the people I was responsible for could get killed… and the same was true even if I did everything right.

I actually froze for a moment.

Then I felt the unknowns coming closer.

"Contacts approaching." I added aloud. Huh. The motion tracker in my armor wasn't detecting them, even if they were in range.

"Kelly, Allister – left flank. Maia, watch my six." I ordered and moved in – my indecision forgotten.

I was carefully looking over the containers – searching for any sign of trap. In the same time I was keeping in touch with my Gift and tracking the minds of the approaching aliens. At least the complete darkness in the small compartment was utterly irrelevant. It has been a long time since it could inconvenience anyone. Unfortunately the latter included the pirates. Even third rate civilian equipment nowadays had decent night-vision capabilities. Even they were good enough for anything short of passive countermeasures or exotic environments.

The contacts split – two moving left and the last one was heading straight at me. I made a sign for Maia to stop and whispered in my comm.

"Kelly – two contacts are heading for you. About ten meters to the right."

In the next moment I pulled and EMP grenade from my rig and threw it at one of the containers at the far end of the makeshift passage I was walking through. It bounced off the composite alloy and promptly blew up once it was around the corner. A wave of blue and white energy washed over the crates. I was already sprinting and idly noted that the containers were obviously full – otherwise, the blast wave would have thrown them all around – making our lives harder. I bit off a curse – that was something I should have thought about earlier.

Then I was around the corner and saw the alien whose mind I felt. He was a Turian, who was sprawled over a low stack of containers. His rifle was laying on the ground a couple of meters away from him, which was fortunate.

Command did want prisoners after all.

I wasted no time and snapped my left hand forward. The omni-tool built in the armor acted as programmed and sent an overload at the dazed Turian - that would take care for any tech toys he might have on him for even longer, perhaps fry them altogether. I never slowed down and was upon him a moment later and slammed the butt of my weapon in his helmet hard enough to give him a concussion.

At the same time I could hear the chatter of ME weapons, followed by a deafening crash.

"Maia, doze him!" I ordered and continued sprinting.

I heard a loud shot – some kind of shotgun or sniper.

"MAN DOWN!" Allister shouted over the platoon comm. A moment later, my HUD helpfully informed me that Kelly's suit was off the net and his vitals were critical.

I threw cation to the wind and accessed my Gift to the fullest. The familiar human minds of Allister and Maia were calming beacons to my altered perceptions. I idly noted the barest flicker from the Turian behind me – the man was in no condition to be a threat.

"Maia check Kelly! I'll deal with them!" I growled in my comm.

There were two other aliens nearby. One was familiar – the female who easily threw off my earlier attack.

The other was afraid, resigned and pissed off at the same time.

Kelly was gone – I could feel no trace of his cheerful mind.

That enraged me all right. It was only thanks to my training that I kept my head in the game. Kelly wore an assault armor. Anything, anyone who could take him out in a handful of seconds wasn't to be underestimated.

I pulled a barrier of raw psionic energy around me and jumped over a low row of crates.

Allister was shooting – I could hear the distinct snap-hiss of his SMG. His fire was returned in kind by the loud booms of shotguns.

The nearest of the two remaining hostile was nearby. I could sense his mind clearly… It wasn't the female. I smiled viciously and imagined shattering his mind. I concentrated into forcing my vision upon reality itself. My Gift responded like and eager puppy. Tendrils of purple energy surrounded me, fed by my mind and the amplifiers built in my armor. The balefire ran over my figure, down my right arm and concentrated around my hand. I turned left and made a throwing motion.

The power to force my will upon the universe made manifest – that was my reward for the hell I was subjected during the war… and it didn't disappoint. I could see the eldritch bolt slamming into a Batarian wearing a black armor. The man staggered and screamed as my psionic attack started flaying his mind.

I charged him. I pulled the psionic shield closer and enveloped my right arm with more of my Gift's power. Before the Batarian, who I suspected was Kloss, could do anything but keen in distress, I slammed a right hook in his chin. I put all my fury, the power of my enhanced body and amplified them with psionics. The metal of his helmet crumpled under my fist. I could actually feel his jaw shattering just a moment before his head snapped back. Only the helmet locking in place prevented his neck from breaking, though I was sure that I gave him a concussion to remember me by.

With another target put down, I sprinted to the last nearby alien presence. The female was almost upon Allister.

The darkness was lit up by a blue lighting. Her mental signature was simply gone for a moment then my man was flying away. I could hear and feel an nearby explosion.

Fuck. A biotic. Powerful one too – I doubted that even the mean looking shotgun the Batarian I knocked out had could have taken out Kelly.

I had no doubt that she would be finishing Allister if I gave her the chance so I grit my teeth, disregarded anything resembling common sense and pushed at her mind as hard as I could.

The woman stumbled under my attack – I could feel her mental defenses cracking. For a split second our minds touched.

I could feel a torrent of conflicting emotions, then they were all drowned into a strange mixture of rage and glee. I could feel mind – it was disciplined… despite the madness gripping her. It was powerful and experienced.

As I was right now, she would have crushed me if she possessed the Gift. I could feel something that was familiar to it in her, yet very, very different. Then I was thrown out of her head by a vicious spike of fury. It made my headache spike so much, that my med-suite acted on its own and sent more stimulants and painkillers in my veins.

A moment later I felt a surge of energy racing through my body and suddenly my head was clearer.

That was a good thing – the woman, an Asari – appeared around a tall row of containers. She had a wide smile plastered on her face and madness in her eyes. The moment she saw me, the pirate was engulfed in a halo of dark energy.

Thanks to my implants and genetic modifications I was even faster. My hands moved in a trained response and my weapon was trailed on her figure. In the same motion I released the safety and pressed the trigger. A bolt of sickly-green plasma flew at the woman just as she bionically charged me. She simply plowed through the shot and it barely slowed her down. Then she slammed into the psionic barrier I had kept around me. The instant that my shot bought me, allowed me to put more power in my defenses.

The impact produced a blinding, multicolored flash. It felt like an angry berserker tackling me, even if I somehow remained on my feet.

Then the Asari shot me in the chest with a carnage round that immediately overheated her shogun.

This time I was thrown off my feet. My already strained shields shattered under the impact. The HUD lit up with warnings which were redundant. I could feel my chest plate denting. I couldn't miss the blunt force impact cracking my reinforced ribs either. I knew that I'd suffered internal injuries too, though the painkillers and stimulants in my system didn't allow me to feel them properly – a small blessing. They prevented me from going into shock too, though that might have been the gene mods.

More meds flooded my system – enough to awake a dead soldier and make them a mean fighting machine… at least for a time. However, that wasn't good enough to make me move before the Asari. My connection with my gift had been thrown away too and I wasted a precious moment in reestablishing it – just in time to feel myself getting weightless and lifting up.

I didn't need to read the Asari's mind to know what was going to follow – she was surely preparing another biotic attack – one which was going to cause a dark matter explosion and fuck me up something fierce.

I grit my teeth and pulled as much psionic power as I could handle and materialized a barrier between us.

It was just in time too – a moment later something slammed in the purple wall of energy and exploded. At the same time gravity decided that it had enough of this biotic shit and reestablished its hold upon me. I felt myself failing and slammed face first in the metal floor.

That did me no favors and my ribs screamed in protest. My concentration went out again too.

The good news was that a psionic barrier like mine didn't dissipate the moment you stopped feeding it power. That took a few seconds – a fact that the Asari found the hard way when she tried to charge me again and slammed into the wall of psionic power. The barrier did shatter under her onslaught, yet it stopped the woman in her tracks.

It also bought me enough time to find my feet and envelop myself with psionic power. While my rifle was nowhere to be seen, her shotgun was still overheated from the overpowered round she shot me with.

We stared at each other for a moment. She was loving this – I could see it in her eyes.

A heartbeat later we both flared with power – she was engulfed by a halo of dark energy, while I was surrounded by the purple shell of my Gift. I wanted her gone – shredded to bits – and used that to shape my attack. A sphere appeared in my right hand. It was a rippling whirlwind of raw power, ready to dig into my target.

The Asari had a similar idea – a warp field surrounded her right hand.

We threw our attacks in the same time. I pulled the excess energy surrounding me into a shield and didn't try to dodge – there simply wasn't enough space between the containers around me to do so.

The same was true for the woman too, though she used her biotics to pull a metal crate between herself and my attack.

The warp slammed into my barrier and actually ate through it within a breath, before it slammed into my left shoulder. There it twisted the armor, but the Vahlenite alloy held.

The Asari wasn't so fortunate. I was guiding my attack too… and it could have fucked up a SHIV if it hit one. The sphere of psionic energy simply shredded the container the enemy was using as a shield and continued without slowing down. A biotic barrier started forming around the woman, but it simply wasn't enough – the spinning sphere of altered reality ground through the dark matter, shattered her kinetic barriers and slammed into her commando leathers, which proved no protection. My attack proceeded to cave in her chest, before dissipating and taking most of her lungs with it.

A confused expression appeared on her face. I could see surprise in her eyes, before they rolled back and she fell on he floor.

I let a sigh of relief.

That was close. Too damn close. And Kelly… I sighed. Fuck it all!

I took a deep breath, which goddamn hurt and used my Gift to scan the immediate area. Even if there was someone ready to further fuck up my day, I couldn't sense them. The two men I knocked down barely registered – they were out for good. At least Allister's mind was here, if dim and Maia was next to him so he was in a good hands.

I looked around and saw my rifle – fortunately it looked all right, which was good considering all the shit that was thrown around. I picked it up and headed towards my people. As I passed by her I considered shooting her to vent my anger, pain and frustration, though the little bit of common sense and the pain in my chest stopped me from fucking up any further. So I simply glared at the dead woman and walked past her.

Kelly was nearby. He was literally embedded into a wall of twisted containers. He was mostly intact, though his armor was dented and twisted in places. However his helmet… It was a ruin. If I had to make an educated guess, the Asari had hit him with two attacks, producing a dark matter explosion. That had shattered his shields and slammed him into the containers hard enough to crumple a lot of them and embed him into them. After that she had used a few warps on his helmet.

I suppressed the need to go back and shoot her in the face and followed my HUD to Maia and Allister. He was sitting on the ground, propped on the wall next to the blasted door and the doc was going over him with her scanners.

"Is he all right?" I asked.

"Nothing that we can't fix in a few days. Kelly's..." Maia trailed off.

"I saw. When you're sure Allister's stable go stabilize the Batarian. I'm pretty sure he's our target."

"I'll make sure he makes it to interrogation."

"Make it so." I triggered the command frequency. "Strike Actual, Strike One. Primary secured, wounded. One prisoner. Strike four KIA, two wounded. Over."

"Good. We're almost done here too." I could hear shots over Anderson's reply. "Hold on a moment." He added and cut off the connection.

I called up my status on the HUD. Most of my ribs were cracked, my breastbone was outright broken, there was some internal bleeding though it was already clothing thanks to one of my gene mods and whatever the med-suite was pumping in my veins. I was probably one big bruise too, though I was barely feeling most of that.

Good painkillers. I needed to buy a drink for whoever thought of building in such a nice med-suite in the current generation of armors.

Make that a whole case of the good stuff.

"Maia, once the primary is secured, I'll need your attention too."

She was silent for a moment. "Sarge sit your ass down. I'll be there in a moment." Maia growled. "Strike Actual, Strike Three. One is going down due to wounds. We'll need a hand over here." The Doc snapped over the command frequency.

"That's unnecessary." I mumbled. Huh. Why did I see everything in a red sheen?

I blinked and frowned. I was laying on my back and Maia was… I was sure she was glaring at me even if I was unable to see her eyes through her helmet.

She said something I couldn't understand and I felt a prick in the side of my neck.

I felt sleepy and closed my eyes for a moment.


	14. Chapter 4 Parts 1&2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 4: The Spectre**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1**

 **11:09, 4 September 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **Exodus Cluster**

I was already getting bored – being stuffed into not particularly comfortable bed in the med bay for days after damaging the psi-amp implanted in your head has that side effect. Plus, being lightly wounded, yet conscious, wasn't an excuse not to file up the paperwork coming with my position. Then there was the AAR…

At least I wasn't the one who had to write the letters to the families of the three troopers we lost on the last op. As it turned out, Anderson ran into a pair of capable biotics too – they took out a pair of troopers with them before being blown to bits.

On the bright side, the docs on board of the Rhine managed to patch up and release all other wounded within a couple of days, which was great. Back in the day, at least two of the injured soldiers would have been discharged thanks to receiving crippling wounds so their speedy recovery was great. The downer was that I was left mostly alone in the med bay, while my implants were slowly being fixed by nanites.

I had done the required paperwork, written and checked the AAR multiple times before sending it to the LT and I was getting bored out of my skull. Once the job was done, I was left to rest – no access to the net or even something to read while the tiny robots were finishing their job. I was supposed to be resting when not doing paperwork and somehow I got caught up on it last night, which meant that I was already bored out of my skull.

I was already contemplating various kinds of mischief so I wouldn't go insane, when a disgruntled looking Anderson strode into the compartment.

"Are the children rowdy without adult supervision, sir?" I quipped.

"Not really. In unrelated news, the hangar bay is shinning." David sighed. "We have another issue."

"For some reason I think I won't like what you're about to say."

Anderson snorted. "We'll be getting a Council observer, who has experience in dealing with pirates."

"Ah." That was my eloquent reply. "Command wants us to play nice or arrange an accident?" I asked, while wondering why the powers that be had agreed on the idea. It positively reeked on politics and that was never a good thing.

"Accidents are to be avoided at all costs." David sighed. "It gets better."

"Understood. We'll keep the VIP in one piece." I frowned. "Though that may prove problematic if they decide to observe an op in person on the ground." I really hoped that wouldn't be the case. "We can keep them safely on board, right?"

"The good and bad news is that we're getting a Specte." Anderson gave a painted look that showed how much he disliked the very idea.

"Lucky us." I grumbled. "So babysitting, while doing our best not to reveal too much about tactics and weaponry?" That was a good way to get people killed.

"Oh, it gets better."

"Can I request a transfer to another ship?" I tried.

"We can always throw you out of an airlock at the next target. I just had a long chat with the Captain about our guest. We'll be babysitting the VIP, which given our lack of officers and NCOs right now means you."

"What did I do to deserve this?"

"You made yourself a hero on Elysium and I guess this is the reward." Anderson smirked.

I groaned. "All I wanted was to kill aliens and keep the civies safe!"

"Tough. We'll be meeting a Turian frigate in a few hours to take on board the Spectre. I want you up and presentable by then."

"At least did you arrange my escape with the Doc or should I release myself?"

"It's done. You'll be out of here shortly."

"Do we know who the Spectre would be? Dossier?"

The LT pulled out a small data-chip from one of his pockets and threw it at me. I snatched it before it could bounce off my chest.

"An Asari, which given our last op might be an issue. Tela Vasir. Here's what command has on her or at least believes we need to know."

"Well, that's just great." I groaned. "She'll be our guest, not the above the law Spectre bullshit, right?"

What could possibly go wrong with an Asari on board, just a few days after members of her species killed three of our own during the last op? Fuck, I was going to have my hands full.

"A guest." Anderson snorted. "No one's insane enough to give free reign to one of the Council attack dogs in our space, much less on an X-COM ship."

"Is the Asari aware of that?"

"I asked the same and she should be."

"Should?" That sounded less than reassuring. "What exactly are my orders, sir? Would she be allowed with us on an op? What isn't she allowed to see? Contingencies?"

"Allowing her to leave with examples of Elerium based tech – power cells, plasma weapons or the stuff itself is a big no-no. We'll be restricted to laser, Gauss and particle weaponry while she's on board. Standard information restrictions apply."

"Understood. No talking about ship numbers, capabilities, etc…" The same for ground formations, weapon capabilities or well pretty much anything. It was a given that a Spectre would be able to make some pretty conclusions about our capabilities, however we shouldn't make her job easier. She shouldn't be able to learn much beyond a first hand experience with our small unit tactics, which in the grand scheme of things wouldn't be decisive in a conflict between us and the Council. Besides, we wouldn't be using the nice toys, which were restricted for either a full scale war or Ethereal incursion.

Hopefully command knew what they were doing.

At least keeping the Asari out of the ship's network wouldn't be my job. We had an AI for that. Still, I would need to make sure that she wouldn't be able to leave unpleasant toys behind or pocket a data-pad or chip with restricted info.

God damn it, I didn't need to deal with this shit!

 **=SF=**

 **Part 2**

 **15:24, 4 September 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **Exodus Cluster**

A Turian shuttle – a small, fragile looking boxy thing of a design preferred by most Council races touched down in the Rhine's hangar. It's side doors slid up and opened, revealing the sole passenger, who jumped lightly to land on her heels. If I didn't know better I would have thought that there was some kind of mistake.

The Asari wore casual clothes with a backpack thrown over her left shoulder and a large duffel bag in hand. She made a great impression of a lost coed or a woman who was on her way home after a shopping spree. However, she had the same face I saw while reading the briefing package on the Spectre – those tattoos or marks on her face were quite distinctive.

Her eyes on the other hand made her hard to confuse as a civilian – they were moving rapidly as she examined the hangar for danger and decent cover.

"Spectre Vasir, welcome on board. I'm First Lieutenant David Anderson." The LT sounded as happy with wearing his dress black uniform as I felt. Considering that the Captain had no intention of meeting our guest and declared her our brand new problem, we were forced to be more diplomatic than usual. Or at least the LT told me so when he ordered me to crawl into the damn dress uniform while we approached the rendezvous with the Turian cruiser.

"I'm positively charmed." Vasir gave Anderson a smile that didn't touch her eyes and nodded to the shuttle's pilot.

The transport's door closed with a distinct click and the machine rose up with the characteristic whine of a eezo powered craft. It turned in place and a moment later shot trough the atmospheric shield keeping us all from meeting a messy end.

"I guess no one on board is thrilled with our respective bosses newest brainstorm?" Vasir continued.

Did I mention that this whole thing was damn awkward?

"I'm sure that the idea sounded great back on Earth and the Citadel." I quipped. "I'm Sergeant Delkatar Veil, Ma'am. I'll be your guide while on board."

"My minder. Or guard, you mean." Vasir gave me a searching look.

"It's the best way to avoid misunderstandings." Anderson added.

"So he needs to make sure your people behave?"

"Or that you don't try to leave with a souvenir or two. That would be unfortunate." I stated. Who in their right mind thought that I can deal with diplomacy of all things?!

"The Sergeant will see you to your quarters, Ma'am. When you've settled in he'll provide you with a tour of the ship."

"The areas little old me is allowed in?"

"Don't worry, the ship's AI will make sure you don't get lost." I couldn't help myself.

"Do try not to kill each other. It will take a lot of paperwork to explain it." Anderson sighed. I didn't need my gift to sense that he thought this was going to be an ongoing disaster. "I'll see you at dinner, Spectre." The LT gave our guest a nod and headed towards the exit.

Damn it, Anderson!

"Is trying to kill each other some human initiation ritual or just XCOM's?" The Asari asked, then smiled. "The Krogan had a few similar traditions."

I swear I was going to find whoever brainstormed this mess and introduce them to the messiest ways a psion can kill them.

"Perhaps tomorrow. Please follow me, Ma'am."

"Huh. It's actually refreshing." Vasir mussed. "Usually everyone who knows I'm a Spectre steps lightly and acts very carefully around me. Not to mention that most of them are scared out of their wits."

"I'm more concerned if some bored grunt decides to see if you Spectres are as good as you're supposed to be." I sighed. Note to self – make sure the troops were too busy to even notice our guest. I guess that the hangar could use some more polishing or something.

"Not you?"

"I've seen what Asari are capable of." I grunted and headed towards the exit, waving Vasir to follow me.

 **=SF=**

 **13:45, 4 September 2176**

 **HQ Regional HQ**

 **Arcturus Station**

Jack Harper slumped behind the desk of his temporarily office. The investigation was making decent progress in uncovering the tracks of whoever screwed over Elysium and the Alliance as a whole, and he was beginning to like the emerging picture less and less with every new clue.

Oh, the perpetrators had done expert job in hiding their tracks, yet there was one piece of evidence that they couldn't remove – there were very few people with access high enough to get the codes for Elysium's defense grid. Even fewer couldn't be psionically checked without a court order and the rest were already cleared, though it would take about a week or so for them to recover from the deep scans.

That left only ten names and he knew most of them as either colleagues, friends, sometimes both.

Jack groaned and focused on the lit up holoterminal on his desk. It wasn't like there was much to see in the utilitarian office he was occupying. There were ten pictures with names and short descriptions of possible motives and opportunities. A painfully familiar face was smiling from the middle of the list – it was Henry's unforgettable damned smug grin. The only good news was that the analysts and AI's going over the lives of the suspects couldn't find a plausible motive for Harper's old friend, even if he had ample opportunity.

In his role of defense contractor and CEO of the corporation that built and maintained Elysium's defense grid, Henry was one of the handful of civilians who had access to the defenses… Yet, the man shouldn't have had the up to date codes needed to disable the system by bypassing its safeties and locking it into a self-diagnostic loop. If Henry was a traitor, he most certainly didn't do it alone. Someone had to give him the codes, Lawson had to provide the opportunity and then there had to be someone on the ground who actually crippled the defenses – as a safety precaution such a stunt couldn't be pulled off wirelessly.

It was known who actually carried out the sabotage – their bodies or perhaps doubles were found on Elysium… and half of them were Henry's employes. Still that by itself didn't mean much, not without a shred of evidence and with Lawson being recipient of psi-blocker implants and conditioning the easy way was out.

That's why an X-COM strike team was currently en route to get Henry for a chat. All Jack could do was to ensure that they would get him at work and not risk an accident with his goddaughter present.

Harper sighed and cursed the regulations forbidding smoking on the station. He really needed a cigarette. Preferably a pack of two.


	15. Chapter 4 Part 3

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 4: The Spectre**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3**

 **20:55, 4 September 2176**

 **Council private rooms**

 **Citadel Tower**

 **The Citadel**

Councilor Tevos fell back into her own comfortable armchair and sighed as the smart little thing started vibrating and massaging her back. She wasn't going to admit it to anyone, but she was getting too old to deal with this shit. It wasn't like she was a maiden any more – Tevos had been a Matriarch for all too long already, even if she did her best not to show it.

Her brief moment of rest was rudely interrupted by the door sliding open and admitting her colleagues. First strode in the still level headed and no-nonsense Kirik, who was continuing to be as unflappable as ever even after four years on the job, followed by the new addition to the Triumvirate who was supposed to run the galaxy – a lively, cheerful Ilreth. The new Councilor was a bit young, even for someone of his short-lived species, but he came with the support of the STG and Salarian fleet along with just enough Dalatrasses to make him a viable candidate.

He was already known as an out of the box thinker – something that would prove useful when dealing with the Alliance – the newest and most acute source of new experiences and headaches for Tevos.

"I've been getting briefed those past few weeks." Ilreth started babbling the moment the door sealed behind his back. "Need to ask! Are you two insane?!" The Salarian's eyes blinked rapidly as they jumped from Tevos to Kirik and back.

The Turian glanced at his companion and barked a warbling laugh. "Told you." He waved at Tevos and headed towards the small, but well stocked bar built in the far wall, next to a large aquarium containing various Thessian fishes.

"The mess at Elysium, right?" The Asari sighed. Tevos knew she was due to a headache shortly. "It was necessary. Someone else would have pushed the Alliance and their pet butchers of XCOM." She gave the Salarian a pointed look. "Either to test them or from sheer stupidity. It wouldn't matter."

"STG wouldn't have gotten it wrong." Ilreth frowned. "Someone else might have."

Knowing Salarians, Tevos was sure that many, many possibilities were rapid firing in that fast brain of his. Idly she wondered how long would it take for the job to drive him to drink. Kirik had held for three years – the longest a Turian managed to stay reasonably sober on this job in the last century.

On average, the Salarians weren't as fortunate.

"Tell that to the Batarians or the various Terminus idiots. I'm pretty sure the Hierarchy had a few low level ops in place too." Tevos turned her gaze towards her Turian counterpart and took a sip from her Eezo rich drink.

"Alas sanity prevailed." Kirik turned around with a glass of his own and gave her a classic Turian shrug. "The powers that be back home decided to play it straight."

"The stealth _frigate_ project?" Ilreth glared daggers at the Turian Councilor, which was understandable. For ages, stealth, espionage and other skullduggery had been the Salarians as a whole and STG's in particular, specialty. Before the Humans came to the stage, the small yet advanced Salarian fleet boasted the only known stealth frigates and even handful of cruisers.

"Fedorian is determined to push his plans for closer cooperation with the Humans through." Kirik nodded. "He and most of our leadership believe this to be a prudent course of action."

"You agree." Tevos groaned.

"Of course." The Turian saluted her with his drink. "Increased military cooperation and at least limited R&D exchange is the idea." Kirik looked damn pleased with himself.

Tevos cursed quietly.

"Trend concerning." Ilreth started droning. "If successful, it will shatter the balance of power within Citadel space."

Kirik's mandibles twitched in amusement as he tasted his drink and waved the Salarian to continue.

"Turian vast fleets and standing armies balanced by smaller yet more advanced Asari and Salarian navies. The backing of the Asari Republic's economic power insured a millennia of stability."

"True and very much irrelevant." Kirik sat his spiky posterior on a nearby chair.

"While technologically ascendant Hierarchy financed by the Volus clans would be a threat to the status quo, it doesn't matter. The balance of power already shattered by emergence of Humanity and its advanced technology."

That very thought made Tevos giggle, earning her a weird look from Kirik and a surprised one from Ilreth. The balance went out of the airlock the moment Humanity crawled from their corner of the galaxy – everyone smart enough already knew that. Only a miracle and then admiral Fedorian being in charge of the Turian part of the first contact allowed for common sense and cool heads to prevail – in the process avoiding a war that would have been a bloodbath for everyone involved.

It also shattered the cozy position of the Asari as galactic leaders, which nowadays was an illusion thanks to the Alliance deciding to mostly keep to itself.

Ironically, Tevos found herself in a novel position. Instead of working behind the scenes to assure Asari primacy as she did for the most of her century and a half as a Councilor – by subtly sabotaging the Turian and Salarian positions, she had to do her best to carefully upset the balance and bring the Council at something resembling technological parity with the Alliance.

It was vital to do so while the sane humans were in charge. Speaking of them…

"We digress." Ilreth shook his head. "This Council and my esteemed predecessor's brainstorm." The Salarian glared at his two counterparts.

"As I said, sooner or later a confrontation was inevitable. Too little is known about Human tech, besides being more advanced that ours. They have done a splendid job of keeping the relevant things under wraps and what little we did learn is of grave concern." Tevos drained her cup. "The Batarians are arrogant fools who may very well believe that they can take on the Alliance and at least eke out a stalemate thus forcing our hands. The Terminus loons – they had been probing the humans for years and generally getting their heads handled to them despite occasional and very temporal successes. Like Mindoir."

"Instead you nudged things up that an even wore example would be engineered." Ilreth was derisive. "Mindoir was a colossal headache for the STG."

And what a headache that mess was – a minor colony, outside of Alliance space that was hit by pirates. The outlaws managed to trash what little infrastructure there was. Then they proceeded to kill – because it turned out that capturing humans alive turned out to be a very hard thing – most of the inhabitants and took some gravely wounded ones and children as slaves.

Then an Alliance patrol turned up and either blew up or disabled every raider in system, before liberating the survivors. That had been a very close call for various reasons. The Alliance as a whole was up in arms and launched multiple punitive raids in Terminus space, leaving no survivors or witnesses.

It took a lot of political capital, bribes and handling some Eezo know how and theoretical research to the Humans to make that mess go away.

That was something that all the Councilors knew. So Tevos was well aware where Ilreth was coming from. This time things were going to escalate, perhaps out of control.

Tevos hoped it was going to be worth it in the end.

"We're aware of the dangers." She finally stated.

"Really? I'll take you on your word for now, Tevos. What exactly is the Council hoping to gain from this fiasco in progress?"

"Many things." Kirik answered. "While the Hierarchy is playing the straight man, we're pursuing another course of action. First, we need answers – a read into the Alliance's capabilities."

"That's obvious. Not all by any means." Ilreth impatiently interrupted.

"True. Call it a preemptive strike. An accident between the Hegemony and Alliance was going to happen sooner rather than later. With some subtle hints, covert and deniable support, we made sure that this confrontation would be on our terms."

"So we would be in a position to observe the Alliance in action."

"We had more than a few military veterans on Elysium on perfectly legitimate business in the period when the attack was expected to happen. Needless to say, none of them knows that we pulled strings to get them there – everyone has a very real reason to visit that colony." The Turian explained. "That gave us some first hand accounts of Alliance ground forces – even if they were caught off guard." He continued.

"Further and more importantly, this gives us an opportunity to offer our assistance – both in providing intelligence and cadres experienced with the Terminus when the Humans come in seeking blood. It took a lot of bargaining to ensure that the Alliance and even XCOM allows a limited number of Specters and high ranking CSEC operatives as advisers and observers."

"They will be kept away from anything sensitive." Ilreth grumbled.

"That's a given. Still we'll finally see the Alliance navy in action. We're also using them to clean up a lot of the pirates and sent a message both to the Terminus and Hegemony." Kirik looked all too pleased at the thought of pirates dying screaming.

The Hierarchy had wanted to go in and clean up the Terminus space for centuries and only skillful maneuvers by the Asari and Salarian Councilors had avoided that particular war.

"How do you keep this getting back to us?" Ilreth sounded genuinely interested for the first time.

"There are only two Specters who are aware of the op and executed it. Their reputation and skill is beyond reproach and they won't be caught alive if something goes wrong."

"You're sure of that?" Ilreth asked.

"They did volunteer." Kirik gave a meaningful nod.

"Ah. That project."

The Turian glared at their colleague, to Tevos' grim amusement. There probably were just a handful things not related to humanity that the STG didn't know. Fortunately a certain secret on Thessia was one of them.

"There's another angle too – Torfan." Kirik continued after finishing his drink in a one go.

"The pirate fortress?" Ilreth inquired.

"It's a damn fortress all right. One that we would have taken out if not for certain meddling." Kirik gave Tevos a disapproving look, which she bore stoically.

Doing so simply wasn't worth it the increased tensions with the Hegemony and Terminus.

Torfan was a pirate, slaver and smuggler heaven, which operated with the Batarians tactic support. There was no other way the "upstanding free spirits" operating there had so much supposedly scraped Hegemony hardware.

Incidentally, the fleet that hit Elysium was supposed to go there with the spoils. That was something that the Alliance was going to discover sooner or later – a virtual guarantee once people familiar with the Terminus scum started aiding them.

"That's almost commendable." Ilreth stated after a long pause to process the latest bomb dropped in his lap. "What if they don't stop there?"

"Our analysts all but guarantee that the Alliance won't start a war unless they perceive us as an existential threat. Not when they're scared of the possibility that the Ethereals would return one day. The Humans won't risk weakening themselves in an all out conflict with us or even the Batarians. Too much to lose for dubious gains at best." Tevos stated.

Ilreth stared at her, then muttered something too fast and quiet for the Asari to understand. Not that she needed – it was clearly a curse of some kind.

"The Alliance parliament faces elections late next year. If the current party wants to keep their position and thus the peace..." The Salarian glared daggers at his counterparts, "They might be forced into a war no one apparently wants. Do I need to spell you what will happen if one of the other major human parties gains majority?"

"Hostile isolationism. I very much doubt that the humans would let the loons in charge and then follow them into a conflict with us."

"That might be enough if the Batarians provoke them. Or… Have you considered that the current parliament might go for an out of proportion response to guarantee their re-election next year?" Ilreth grumbled.

"That's..." Tevos trailed off. She had seen the estimates of human political reaction if either the Batarians or a Terminus warlord provoked them. With both the Alliance and XCOM trying to push for a modern, not xenophobic image, anything but a proportional response was deemed highly unlikely. Yet… How much did the Council truly knew about the inner workings of the Alliance?

"I think another unofficial chat with Ambassador Udina is in order." Tevos muttered.

"That might be for the best." Ilreth nodded and headed for the bar.

Damn, on the third day? This was some kind of a record even for the Salarian Councilors.

"Is there any other operation in progress that I need to know about?" Ilreth snipped.

Tevos looked at Kirik, who shrugged. There was nothing else going on that the Salarian might find objectionable.

Right?


	16. Chapter 4 Parts 4&5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 4: The Spectre**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 4**

 **18:03, 4 September 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **Exodus Cluster**

I should have known better. Really – after all the shit I've been through after joining X-COM for the first time, I shouldn't be surprised. I should have known that the other shoe was going to drop after getting away this lightly on an op – even if the opposition was shitty slavers.

Apparently, Mr. Murphy was all right and thriving still.

"Half hour ago, we detected some unusual Hyperwaeave activity. It took us some time to narrow it down and make sure it wasn't some king of a glitch." The communications officer – a petite woman who spoke with a faint Spanish accent continued the briefing.

That shook me off my funk and I started paying attention. Who knew, I might learn something that might help me live through the next couple of days.

"Not ours, I take it?" Anderson, who with me was the other representative of the infantry detachment.

"No." Captain Michelle York stated flatly. While her voice was level and she practically radiated composure, I could feel her unease after subconsciously accessing my gift.

Even I knew that there were only two parties using Hyperwave. At least known ones. We were number one. The never sufficiently fucked Ethereals were the others.

"What are our orders?" Anderson asked quietly.

"To investigate. We'll have reinforcements in the area within forty eight hours, but we're on our own until then." The Skipper announced.

"What about our guest?" I asked. "If we have to deploy against Ethereal forces…." I trailed off. In that case we would have to either keep the VIP on ice, make sure she isn't in a position to report anything or leave her go home with potentially compromising knowledge about our ground side capabilities.

Well, at least those were the options I could think of right now. It was obvious that all of them had different drawbacks, including political. Speaking of that… I frowned as a stray thought ran through my mind.

"Is there something you want to add, Sergeant?" The Captain asked. Given her tone, it was an order to speak.

"Call me paranoid, Ma'am, but it suddenly struck me as a terribly convenient coincidence that the Rhine could detect that Hyperwave activity mere hours after we got a Council Spectre on board."

"You're paranoid." The skipper's lips briefly twitched with amusement. "Thad doesn't necessary make you wrong." The Captain looked thoughtful. "We received new orders yesterday – to go raid a small pirate base on the edge of conventional ME FTL. We've been heading there for the last few hours and the Hyperwave activity comes from the same general area, even if its about a hundred light years beyond our target."

Well, shit. Can you say a set up? I had the sudden suspicion that Command was aware what we might run into and wanted a Council representative to ride with us.

"It's not particularly subtle, and it might be a coincidence. After all, everyone working for X-COM needs to have a healthy dose of paranoia. It's in the job requirements." The Captain quipped. "To answer your question, Sergeant, Command wants our guest to experience first hand what is to face Ethereals if we're forced into confrontation."

"That would reveal some of our ground side capabilities. If she sees Ethereal craft in action – the Spectre would have some idea what we're capable of too." I stated.

"Apparently suddenly Command wants to reveal some of our capabilities to the Council." The Captain nodded. "At least that's my read of the situation."

"It makes sense." Anderson nodded. "There will be at least some who would want the Council on our side if we have to go another round with the Ethereals. Showing them how dangerous they are and what we might be able to offer them..."

"It's a dangerous gamble." The Captain finished. "Seeing the enemy in action might prompt the Council to stay out of any conflict between us and the Ethereals or even stab us in the back while we're busy with the real threat in order to get our technology."

"Reasonable concerns." I muttered. What little I knew of the Council led me to believe that they would be doing what's best for the three big Citadel races – that likely included watching us and the Ethereals killing each other and trying to scavenge tech while we were too busy.

Can't say that I would do something different in their place. The Ethereals made sure that when survival of the species was concerned, I had no qualms left in doing whatever it bloody took. The alternatives were not to be contemplated as the experiments those bastards ran on us could attest.

"Despite my qualms, the Spectre is to be read into our Alpha class equipment – that's straight from Command and you'll have it in writing, Sergeant Veil. Make sure that she won't blow herself up and doesn't steal anything." Captain York ordered. Then she turned her attention to Anderson. "Break out the nice toys and outfit your maniacs. If reconnaissance in force is required, we'll be on point. Dismissed."

When we were out of the briefing room, Anderson waved me into a nearby secluded side passage.

"I don't need to read your mind to see you're disturbed. What's up?"

I chuckled darkly. "Fucking Ethereals, sir. I can't help but think that this will turn up into a clusterfuck like my old missions." I answered nervously. My initial anger was dying out and it was replaced by fear.

"We have much better equipment now. With a bit of luck, the technological and numerical disparity won't be as huge. We might even be ahead in an are or two." David spoke in a soothing voice.

"Do you really believe that or just trying to settle my nerves?"

"Well, you're my only NCO, the only one on the ship who had fought the Ethereals and you're still here. It won't be good for morale if you become nervous wreck when we might run into the bastards. Look on the bright side – it may be someone else who kicked their shriveled butts."

"Thanks." I took a deep, calming breath. "Just promise me something."

"Anything within reason."

"Don't let the bastards take me alive if everything goes to hell."

Anderson frowned, then nodded. "No one gets left into their hands. Consider that a standing order."

 **=SF=**

A few minutes later we entered the mess hall where the platoon was busy with dinner. The troopers were clustered in small groups, usually with their fire teams. Only Shepard and Vasir were alone.

"Attention." I barked.

A moment later, everyone but the Spectre was up and in parade rest facing us.

"You have fifteen minutes to finish dinner, then report to the armory. I want all gear inspected and made ready for heavy combat. Prepare Alpha class war loads. We've detected possible Ethereal activity and are ordered to investigate. Carry on." Anderson ordered.

"At ease. Finish your grub and go make sure no one dies because of faulty equipment. Vasir, you're with me once you've finished."

It took just a few seconds for the announcement to set in before the mess exploded with shouts, questions and even a few gleeful roars.

The poor bastards had no idea what we were in for.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 5**

 **Mess Hall**

 **18:08, 4 September 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **Exodus Cluster**

A few minutes after the announcement, everyone had calmed down a bit and was busy obliterating their chow. I took some mashed potatoes and a steak and headed for the nearest free table to take a bite before dealing with the Spectre – only to find myself joined by Anderson, Shepard and Vasir.

"To what do I own the honor?" I asked after taking a bite of my food. I glanced at rest of the platoon, who were giving me pointed looks.

"Well, you're the only one on board who has fought Ethereals." Anderson pointed out. "Did you really expect that everyone won't be picking your brain over that?"

"We've all been through the same training built on the lessons of the war. There certainly wasn't anything in basic I could disagree with." I shrugged.

"You still have first hand experience. Impressions that might not have made it into the general consumption reports. Things disregarded as outliners or unimportant. When all is said and done, the war was a long time ago." Anderson continued.

"Which means that everything we know about the bastards is out of date. Take no chances, make sure you hit your targets and keep your guard up at all times. The one thing I can guarantee beyond a shadow of a doubt is that the fuckers will have nasty surprises for us." I nodded at the LT. "The boss man wants us all to run some EW inspired sims once we're sure that all our gear won't crap out when we need it most."

I was well aware that I wasn't particularly inspiring or charismatic – besides with more than a century to go over our missions the brass should have had very good idea how to prepare for the last war. Whatever new toys the shivered bastards had for us – that was the big question and there was only one way to find out.

"I get to play with the nice toys, I see?" Vasir asked once the mess calmed down.

"Just don't attempt to go home with unsanctioned scans or various odds and ends. I don't need to spell the consequences, do I?"

That's me – no rewards for diplomacy in my future, I think.

"You know, it's less amusing when the shoe is on the other foot." The Asari mussed. "Usually I'm the one who has to warn whoever I have to work with not to take liberties with my Spectre gear."

"We aim to please." I smiled at our guest.

"This is going to be one great diplomatic accident – straight for the history text books – isn't it?" David sighed.

"Don't look at me. It's not like I have a diplomatic training." I shrugged.

"I don't think that anyone on this ship but our guest has such." The LT added.

"Don't look at me! I'm not one of the Specters they sent on particularly sensitive assignments." Vasir shrugged.

"Why did the Council choose you for this job, if it isn't classified, Ma'am?" Shepard asked.

"And you are?" Vasir turned her attention to my other problem.

"Corporal Jennifer Shepard, Ma'am."

"I've often dealt with problems within the Terminus so I'm one of the more experienced Specters when those jokers are concerned." The Asari answered. If the presence of a regular and quite green trooper on the table made her curious, she didn't show it.

"Speaking about experience – you're getting familiarized with our standard war gear and getting a crash course." I added.

"The nice toys it is, then." Vasir gave me an eager smiled. "Now on a more serious tone – how dangerous Ethereal forces would be to modern Alliance and Council units?"

That was a good question. During the war we were vastly outmatched before reverse engineering the enemy's gear. If we had Council tech, we would have fared much better, though that by itself wouldn't have won us the war. Properly leveraged psionics were bullshit tier – I should know. While I was quite powerful, my training and potential weren't the best out there yet I took on an Asari with centuries of experience and won.

Further, I had some idea of what I would be capable of if I underwent a final psi-activation and the relevant training. However, the shrinks all agreed that I would need at least a few years to settle and make sure that my mind was stable before even thinking about it.

"Sarge, you with us?" Shepard asked.

"What?" I shook my head. "I was thinking." I muttered. "The two primary threat would be enemy fleet units and psionics. If they have an Elder on the scene we're fucked. Same goes for anything that the Skipper and her ship can't handle and outrun."

"Elders? Those were the most powerful Ethereals you faced?"

"Me? I met one briefly while they were experimenting on me. If I faced an Elder in combat we wouldn't be having this conversation." I shuddered.

Even then – when I wasn't aware what exactly was happening besides the pain, I could feel it's presence as it oversaw the experiments and tested my mind – only to find me lacking. The pain, the pressure as it searching for something in my mind…

I hissed as the world turned purple.

"Sergeant!" Anderson barked.

The LT's voice snapped me back into reality. I looked back at Anderson who had troubled and concerned expression on his face.

My vision was tinted purple. That and the tingling itching around my still recovering implants made me realize that I had accessed my gift.

I let it go and sighed.

"Sorry about that, sir. There are some memories that still got to me."

"Will you be all right on deployment?"

"It wasn't an issue during the war." I shrugged.

That apparently wasn't what he expected to hear.

"Report to medical when you're done with dinner. Shepard can handle Vasir's initial training. I want to be sure you won't have an episode during mission."

"Understood, sir."


	17. Chapter 4 Parts 6&7

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 4: The Spectre**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 6**

 **05:30, 8 September 2176**

 **XSV "Rhine"**

 **Exodus Cluster**

Next four days were frantic – we checked and rechecked our gear, ran simulated engagements against various Ethereal forces, made sure that Vasir was familiar with our proper war gear and tried very hard to not appear too bothered by the prospect of engaging the old enemy.

I spent almost half that time in medical while the doc was running tests on me and loading me with various meds that would ensure that I wouldn't freeze when engaging the Ethereals once again. The medics also made sure that all my implants were in all right after my encounter with that Asari on our last mission.

Long story short – the transit time and most of the one spent while the skipper was using the cruiser's stealth systems to skulk around and gather Intel went past me like a barely remembered blur.

The first thing I recall clearly was our final briefing before deploying. It was hard not to considering that I worked with Anderson and the ship's Intel section in order to compile it.

We were gathered in the docking bay, where the ship's AI was busy projecting a large hologram of a jungle world.

"For those who haven't paid attention in the last few days, this is our target." I pointed at the floating green sphere. "The planet is designated PX-165, codename for this operation Congo. Its approximately hundred light years from the nearest relay and our preliminary scans indicate that there are no suitable planets for discharging ME drive cores in a fifty light years radius making it unaccesible to Council spacecraft."

"As you can probably figure out by this picture," Anderson continued, "This is an inhabited world. Captured transmissions and stealth drone observations concur. A new species," The LT waved a hand and the image of Congo was replaced by two meter tall felinoid that resembled a mean tempered bipedal tiger, though the coloring was dark brown and black instead of red or white.

"They've encountered the Ethereals approximately twenty standard years ago and lost." Anderson spoke. Windows opened running, brief soundless parts of captured news emissions, showing various Ethereal species – from the small Sectoids to towering Muttons. Even worse… there were things that resembled hybrids between humans and the Ethereals.

That last part made us all bristle the first time we saw it.

"While the AIs still work on proper translation matrix for the local language, intercepted Ethereal transmissions and news sources indicate that they successfully invaded, set up a puppet government and have been running the show ever since. The one notable thing we've found out is that the locals, called The People, implemented an initiative similar to X-COM – the Empress' Claws. Unfortunately for them, at the time of the invasion they were about twenty to thirty years behind us technologically. We presume that was one of the primary factors for their failure."

"Our drones intercepted enemy chatter concerning remnants of the local military that are still fighting in the jungles and it appears that their equivalent of, well us, is still active if heavily pressed. In fact we've detecting signs that the Advent – that's the local collaborator government and Ethereal garrison forces are preparing a major offensive upon suspected Claws' bases." Anderson gave me a small nod.

"Our objective is simple – we're inserting via orbital drop, link up with local resistance, gain Intel on enemy force compositions and activities, then relay it to the Alliance and the Council." I nodded at Vasir. Our AIs should have a working translation matrix finished in twelve hours or so and that's when we're deploying. Captured Intel suggests that we'll be dropping in shortly after the Ethereal begin their offensive."

"This can be interpreted as an act of war." Vasir interjected.

"We've been in a war with the Ethereals ever since they invaded Earth. It never ended." Anderson countered. "If you so wish, Spectre Vasir, you can sit out the ground portion of the operation. Mission parameters are as follows..." The LT continued when The Spectre declined the offer to stay on the ship.

 **=SF=**

 **Empress Claws' FOB Dauntless**

 **Karank's Jungle**

 **Marnloow**

"For once Intel is right..." Lesser Claw Traaw hissed in annoyance and hugged the bottom of his muddy trench. Warm water and sogged soil clung to his fur making him itch all over – just another indignity that he and his unit had to suffer thanks to the never sufficiently cursed aliens.

Still it was better than pocking his head up to be vaporized by enemy mechanized units.

"Where is our damn anti-armor support?" The junior officer snapped.

"Our engineers are engaging enemy heavy infantry on the left flank. ETA unknown!" Traaw's senior still living NCO shouted from the neighboring trench.

"I shouldn't even pray for air support, right?" Thraaw grumbled to himself and clutched his heavy assault rifle. At least the weapon was rugged and reliable – the only reason it was still working in the damn conditions the remnants of the Imperial army were stuck in ever since their government was either gutted, overthrown or taken over by the damned enemy warlocks.

"Advent assault incoming!" A scout shouted from the right. The female's voice became a scream a moment later when the enemy located her and lit up the area with plasma fire.

"Blow the charges on my mark!" Traaw snarled.

The incoming suppressing fire intensified and he could hear many armored figures advancing through the foliage. The Lesser Claw used a hand held mirror of all things to glance above the edge of his trench. The traitors were almost in place…

"MARK!" Thraaw roared.

A sapper in a nearby trench did his magic and the whole front line under the Lesser Claw's responsibility lit up as dozens of directional mines and whatever horrors the combat engineers managed to cook up lit up as one. Even the advanced – for the People's standards at least – armor provided by the Ethereals to their slaves, wasn't enough to weather such an onslaught. At least a platoon worth of Advent troops who were leading the assault were simply shredded into chunks of bloody meat and shattered armor.

Their buddies were shocked by the sudden blow despite their mental conditioning and implants.

It would have been a great time for a counter-blow… if heavy Ethereal units weren't ready to cut to pieces any such adventure.

That left Thraaw stuck up into his nasty trench and hoping for a miracle – something he doubted would happen. After all, its been a very long time since the Sky Mother answered the prayers of the People.

The Lesser Claw didn't believe today would be different.

"Sir, we're ordered to pull back to secondary position! The enemy is hitting the flanks hard and will break through momentarily!" The dedicated comm operator shouted. He was a big damn fella who could easily carry a backpack sized wireless that could not only cut through enemy jamming but was reasonably undetectable to Ethereal scanners; at least the engineers swore that was the case and the fact that the comm operator hadn't been taken out with indirect fire seemed to confirm it.

"Tell them we can't move without someone taking care of those mech units! We lack heavy weapons and the anti-armor unit is bogged down by enemy infantry! If we move we die!" Thraaw snapped.

"There's no available support. Command expect us to slow down the enemy for as long as possible."

"It's been an honor! We hold and make as many of the bastards die as we can! For Clan and Empress!" Thraaw gave out an ancient battle cry.

Fuck, of all places it could have ended it had to be a fucking jungle! He loathed this place… The Lesser Claw mentally grumbled.

His wet and muddy fur stood up on end seconds before he could actually hear the loathed whine of enemy anti-gravity engine.

"The bastards get air support too, of course they do..." The so far silent private he's been sharing a hole with grumbled quietly.

"That's just one more reason to hate their guts" Thraaw sagely concluded.

The Lesser Claw glanced up, but he couldn't see much of the sky from his small trench. Not with all the foliage all around obscuring his vision. Even if the greenery had been cut down significantly by enemy fire, there still was too much foliage go properly see.

An orange lance descended from the heavens and disappeared in the direction of the enemy positions. A moment later his trench was shaken by a massive shock-wave and the horizon was lit up in the deep green fire of an Elerium detonation. Before Thraaw could process what was happening, he was shaken again as a lot of ordnance impacted in the general area where the enemy was coming from.

The rolling explosions continued for more than a minute and then there was unsettling silence.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 7**

 **15:22,, 10 September 2176**

 **Empress Claws' FOB Dauntless**

 **Karank's Jungle**

 **Marnloow**

"Did the honor-less bastards accident their own people?" The private wondered aloud.

"That wasn't us, that's for sure. All the air we have left is engaged to the north." Traaw frowned. "This was an air strike, not artillery, I'm sure of it." Besides, it wasn't like the People had enough of indirect fire support in the AO to hit Advent that hard.

"Sir, we've got incoming! Orbital drop near our position imminent!" The comm operator shouted.

"Look sharp! The bastards were clearing the way for elite troops!" Traaw roared and hugged his trench. He'd faced proper Ethereal infantry only once and barely made it out alive.

Series of supersonic booms shook the jungle, followed buy roar as drop pods suddenly bled off speed and opened just above three top level. Loud thumps and crashes could be heard on the right flank as the enemy's reinforcements landed, plowing straight through the trees.

Traaw braced for what he knew in his bones was going to be his last fight and waited for the inevitable attack.

The Lesser Claw could hear the tell tale sound of plasma weapons, the cracks of lasers and even railguns. It came from the right all right, yet the shooting was getting farther from his position – in fact if his sensitive ears didn't lie the firefight was centered at what Intel believed to be the Advent's forward positions.

"Not that I'm complaining, sir, but why does the enemy appear to be shooting each other?" The private asked.

"Don't know, don't care. Platoon, fall back to secondary positions. Odd sections lead the way, even provide cover!" Traaw ordered.

"Shoot do not. Come in peace we do!" An oddly accented synthetic voice shouted from the jungle.

"Do they think we'll buy that?"Someone exclaimed from nearby trench. It sounded like Norrrmar, but Traaw wasn't entirely sure.

"Who the fuck are you?!" The Lesser Claw shouted, hoping to buy time for the retreating portion of his platoon.

"Sergeant Delkatar Veil, X-COM Division, System's Alliance."

"What? You want us to believe you're the good aliens or something?" Traaw snorted.

"No. The aliens who fought out an Ethereal invasion and come looking for the murderous bastards." The same odd voice shouted back.

Traaw's ears flattened along the top of his head. It would be nice if it was true, but the very idea of allies against the invaders was too good to be anything but some kind of elaborate set up. It didn't matter. The longer that alien talked, the better the odds at least a few of the Traaw's people would make it to the secondary positions.

"Do you really think I'll believe something like that?"The Lesser Claw didn't even try to hide his disbelief.

"Your place, I believe this wouldn't." That man, Vael, Voal, whatever, continued to butcher the people's language. "Orders. Make contact."

"I'll try something. Let's hope he's not particularly bright." Traaw whispered to his trench-mate. "Show yourself if your a friend!" He shouted.

"Right. Shoot me, copulate backwards with you."

"You've got the be kidding me." Traaw groaned. "If were to die here, why do we have to listen to such Empress damned shite!?"

The Lesser Claw carefully glanced over the edge of the trench. A movement caught his eye and he looked straight at it. A heavily armored bipedal figure walked out of the jungle. Its hands were raised in something resembling a placating gesture. While the being was armed, its plasma rifle – which was on unfamiliar design, was strapped to its chest plate. The hands appeared free, not that it meant much. Traaw was sure that the alien had its buddies covering the People's position. That or it was either crazy, foolish or suicidal.

As it turned out, it was neither. One of Traaw's men snapped and opened fire at the figure and before he could either confirm or order cease fire, the remaining half of the platoon joined the fun. The Lesser Claw glared at the alien, who was unscratched. All the bullets either veered off course or slammed into a previously invisible purple barrier.

That thing was a damn warlock!

"ENOUGH! CEASE FIRE OR I WILL MAKE YOU EAT THOSE GUN!" An unfamiliar voice roared straight into Traaw's mind making him stumble back.

The shooting abruptly stopped and the Lesser Claw grappled for his sidearm, preparing for the inevitable. He was sure the aliens were going to kill the all or worse. What happened instead was that Traaw spaced out for a bit. He shook his head and looked around.

The Lesser Claw was standing in his trench and the alien was sitting on its edge and looking at him through the visor of its helmet. Traaw tried to get his gun, then a grenade or even a knife when he couldn't find his other weapons. The alien simply shook its head and pointed to its right.

Traaw glanced that way when he found out that his knife was missing only to find it along with his other weapons on a pile next to the trench.

"Can we talk now?" The same voice sounded in his mind. "The translator's glitching and this way there won't be any misunderstandings." The alien warlock asked.

"Its not like I have a choice." Traaw glared. "Talk."

"As I said, I'm Sergeant Delkatar Veil. Nice to meet you, Lesser Claw Traaw." The alien tilted his head. "Sir." He added. "You're outranking if our respective ranks structure mesh like I think they do."

Traaw gave the alien a dirty look. He didn't appreciate something reading his mind.

"We're Humanity." The alien waved around and Traaw looked beyond the trench to find his men in the same predicament he was. "We come in peace as far as your people are concerned and very much in war for the fucking Ethereals."


	18. Chapter 4 Parts 8&9

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 4: The Spectre**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 8**

 **16:09, 10 September 2176**

 **Empress Claws' FOB Dauntless**

 **Karank's Jungle**

 **Marnloow**

If it was up to him, Lesser Fang Ranloow Morra would have either be back in his reinforce command center or with a rear guard keeping the damn aliens off his retreating troops. What was left of them anyway. The huge man rubbed his scarred muzzle and glared in the general direction of the Claw's main base.

Well, the Empress didn't pay him to enjoy himself, but to do what had to be done, Morra thought. Then he frowned. It's been some time since there was a proper imperial government that could pay anyone. Nowadays, he and the survivors of the armed forces were happy if they had reasonable amount of ammo and food to put in their bellies. Getting paid or being able to spent those mythological money anywhere were dreams of a better past.

The same was true as far as any real hope of driving the invader off Marnloow. Too much of the population bought in the propaganda, or were bought by the nice toys and admittedly excellent free medical care that the Advent government was able to provide thank to their alien overlords. The only thing that kept the Empress Claws still fighting was sheer stubborn nature of the operatives and the fact that the enemy simply didn't care enough to spent the resources needed to finally be rid of them. Unfortunately for the resistance, and Morra had no illusions that the and his comrades were anything else at this point, the Advent had finally gotten fed with the pain in the tail the Claws were.

Oh, after two decades to turn the jungles into death trap, being rid of the last loyal soldiers of the Empire wasn't going to be cheap or easy, yet the traitors and more importantly, their masters, could afford the losses… which frankly would have been less than Morra and his fellow Claws could hope for – a mostly uncontested air superiority in the enemy's favor made for a lot of sins.

Honestly, the Lesser Fang didn't expect to live much past this evening if he was lucky. The weird events this afternoon didn't fill him with hope either, even if that was the main reason for his orders. From what Morra could gather, Advent had been hitting the Claw's all across the perimeter – a lot of infantry, mech support, artillery and they were about to commit air assets, when the enemy positions were hit from orbit. That much had been obvious through all the jamming and holes blown through the sensor net covering the jungle. Command had been getting desperate – that's the only way Morra could explain his orders – to go out a meet the new "friendly" aliens who had apparently secure his flank, flattened the Advent in the region and incapacitated half a platoon worth of soldiers before calmly asking to talk with someone in charge.

"We'll watch you back, sir." Sergeant Klaar, the man in charge of the Lesser Fang's security detail, tried to be reassuring. The NCO was even bigger that Morra himself – he was at least a head taller and resembled a walking wardrobe masquerading as an Empress soldier. The sergeant patted his large grenade launcher and gave Ranloow a fang filled grin.

"If it comes to that, we're fucked anyway." Morra grunted.

"That's been the case for twenty year, sir. At least we'll kill a few more of the bastards and avenge you if everything fangs up." Klaar.

The Lesser Claw growled deep in his chest and his whiskers twitched in annoyance. "Form up and lets see the "nice" aliens." Morra hissed.

The two squads of shock troopers that made the last part of the FOB's reserve followed the sergeant's lead and spread out in defensive formation. They were armed and armored with the best stolen or reverse engineered tech the Empress Claws could get their paws on – it was generally much better than what the Advent common soldiers usually carried and could compare to the equipment of the collaborator's elite formations. Of course, that didn't mean much on the rare occasions the Ethereal decided to sent a squad of their troops down – those were monsters on the battlefield and not just because of their superior technology.

Ten minutes of marching through a cramped tunnel, then a bit longer to navigate the trench network and all the nasty traps for the Advent Morra's engineers had laid practically everywhere and the Lesser Fang reached Lesser Claw Traaw and his new friends. Ranloow simply stared at the sight. Truly, the reports he got didn't make justice to this… Morra closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before allowing himself to look at his captured men.

Couldn't the bloody aliens for once not be a pain in the tail?!

"I pity that poor bastard." Klaar pointed at the Lesser Claw, who was sitting on the edge of a trench along with a few of his subordinates.

Traaw and his people were all disarmed, with their weapons laying piled up on the far end of their trenches from where the soldiers sat. By the look of it, they haven't been captured in an honorable combat – something that was still frowned upon, despite all the Empress did to dissuade such notions even before the aliens invaded. While the Claw's had abandoned any silly ideas of honor on the battlefield – that was reserved for how you treated your enemies after you've defeated them – the rank and file, especially those that were folded in the organization from the remains of the regular armed forces, all too often saw things differently.

"If by the Empress grace this isn't another sick trick of the invaders, I'll be writing Traaw's next review as he was the First Emperor himself come back to help us." Morra stated aloud.

"That might help." Klaar nodded sagely. "He'll deserve it for not fucking up what might be our first break in a long, long time. Either that or we're all dead anyway so it won't matter." The sergeant shrugged.

"Too true." Morra agreed. The Lesser Fang was looking around and carefully examining the few aliens he could see. They all wore various types of customized power armor – which looked more functional and advanced than what Advent had to work with. The same went for their weapons.

All that such observations told him was that this was either another mind fuckery or the ancestors had finally decide give the People a break – something Ranloow already knew.

Morra's fur stood up when he decided it was high time he got to it and walked closer to Traaw and the two humans standing near the Lesser Claw. The Lesser Fang grimaced. While he didn't have enough talent for witchcraft for anything but keep his mind free from outside interference most of the time, he was more than sensitive enough to feel when it was used close to him. Those two aliens were warlocks, that he was sure of and his spirits fell. Oh, he was still going to talk to them at the tiny chance that they were really here to help fuck the Ethereal's days. Unfortunately, the fact that there were warlocks among them, made the deception more likely – even if Morra knew intellectually that anyone who could fight the enemy and hold their own either needed warlocks in their ranks or to be immune to the enemy's witchery.

Traaw stood up and saluted with a clawed paw next to his heart. Morra did so in turn and looked at the aliens.

"Lesser Claw, its good to see you still in one piece. Care to introduce us to your new friends?" The Lesser Fang suggested.

"Sir! These are Leutenont Andersseen and Sergeant Veel of the humoon Systems Alliance." Traaw announced.

"Lieutenant Anderson and Sergeant Veil." An annoyed voice sounded in Morra's mind. "Our translator's are still glitching." The human to the right waved. The Lesser Fang grimaced at the blatant display of witchcraft.

"Lesser Fang Ranloow Morra, commander of this installation." He introduced himself. "While I appreciate seeing Advent blown sky high, I would like to ask why are you here? I'll admit I find the idea of friendly aliens strange."

"Then the two of you have something in common." Anderson spoke and nodded at the human NCO. "The short version – we were in position not unlike yours. The main difference is that we were able to kick the Ethereals off our homeworld hundred and fifty of our years ago. One of our scouts detected Ethereal emissions from this region and we came to check what they were up to."

"Busy making our lives hell and experimenting on our people." Morra supplied.

"Unfortunately I'm not surprised." Anderson sighed.

"Will you fight them or go back home? Can we expect your help in kicking their tailless asses out just so you can replace them?" Morra asked.

"I'm all for fighting the old enemy. What happens if we're able to remove their presence from your homeworld, is so high above my pay-grade its not even funny. What I can tell you for certain that people back home won't stand for us acting anything like the bastards."

"Pretty words. You might even believe them." Morra said.

"A century and half ago I fought the Ethereals when they tried to take my world." The Sergeant spoke coldly, right into Morra's mind. "I personally experienced what they do to people. I won't stand here and pretend that we're angels. We couldn't afford to be if we wanted to win. What we are, are probably the only people in the known galaxy who will help you against the Ethereals, without any reservations."

Morra shook his head. He could feel the man's pain as he spoke about knowing what the invaders did – a pain that every Empress soldier still fighting knew intimately. He also felt the conviction when Veil stated that his people, these humans would fight the Ethereals. It wasn't much. It wasn't up to the sergeant – the Lesser Fang knew that very well.

Yet, for the first time in more than a decade, he dared hope.

"I'll speak with command and inform them that you might really not be hostile." Morra declared.

"I guess this is the best we can hope for, given the circumstances." Anderson said.

"Indeed. I don't think we would have acted much differently back in the day. Probably shooting first too and then thinking about asking any questions." Veil nodded.

 **=SF=**

 **Part 9**

 **07:25, 12 September 2176**

 **Command Center**

 **Empress Claws' FOB Dauntless**

 **Karank's Jungle**

 **Marnloow**

"At least you're properly paranoid." I praised our hosts.

"It's more desperation than anything else." The overgrown house cat in charge around here snorted. "If you want actionable information about the Ethereal presence in this system and their goals, beyond using us in their sick experiments, this is your best chance." Morra leveled a clawed finger at the map covered table around which we were all gathered.

Our hosts didn't trust us, yet they weren't beyond using our assistance in killing Advent soldiers or at least buying themselves a bit more time to prepare four our betrayal. At least we proved that we had no issue killing the collaborators – which admittedly didn't mean much. Most of them were either the Cat's own people who had joined the Ethereal backed government or otherwise expendable troops – mostly clones not unlike what I fought during the war. Those were quite expendable if the odd bits and pieces I got while dueling with Sectoids and Ethereals were true.

"What do you get from this scheme?" Vasir asked. She got a wary look from our hosts, who were quite wary of her biotics, which was kinda weird. The People were apparently all right with Psionics – from what I gather, while not common, the phenomenon hadn't been unheard either before the Ethereals came to take the place for their own. The Mass Effect based space magic on the other hand, threw them for a loop for some arcane reason.

"Intel and the potential rescue of a few VIPs we believe are being held in that facility." The Lesser Fang said. "We've had our eyes on the place for a long time, but until you came, we didn't have reliable way of extracting any assault force."

"I'm in. The Council needs to know what the Ethereals are really doing here besides the obvious from an unbiased source." The Asari shrugged. "Both you and the Humans have admittedly very good reasons to hate their guts. The Council would need something besides your word if they're to aid you in this conflict."

Morra growled and his ears flattened back along his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I know that in your place, the Empress would have wanted reliable Intel before committing the People to a war. I hope so anyway." The Lesser Fang's whiskers twitched in what I presumed was grim amusement. "Yet, right now, I can't help but hate you for not striking at the Ethereals immediately."

"I'd feel the same way if this was Tesia." Vasir nodded. "What about you?" She asked Anderson.

"Hitting an Ethereal research facility? I'm looking forward to it. However, we'll need to plan it carefully. If the Ethereal bring a powerful fleet before the Alliance can position sufficient forces in the region, we can be left hanging."

"That brings back memories." I muttered. Most of them bad.

"Would those stealth transport of yours do?" Traaw asked.

"In theory." Anderson grimaced. "We haven't had the opportunity to test them against modern Ethereal sensors. Still, they're our best bet to get away if things got hairy. What assets can you free for the operation?"

"Sergeant Klaar's people. They're my best equipped soldiers and all of them are veterans. Command should be sending us two strike teams too – two dozen of our best soldiers."

It would be interesting to see the Cat's version of XCOM in action, that was for sure. I wonder how they compared with the people I fought along during the war. Probably better – by now they should have a lot more experience and better tech than we got at the time.

"I'll be taking most of my platoon, minus couple of squads we'll leave here to help coordinate between our people if things get to help and we all got taken out during this op." Anderson announced.

"Any word on when your reinforcements would arrive?" Morra asked.

"The skipper probably knows, but won't share it with someone who could get mind rapped on the ground." Anderson explained.

"Can't he helped." Morra hummed. "We should get this excursion planned. The Empress still have a few loyal subjects in the nearby city and they've managed to infiltrate the food processing plant that supplies the base. They believe that infiltrating a squad should be possible."

"Distraction?" Vasir asked.

"At the very least." Morra tapped a claw on a row of warehouses relatively close to the main entrance. "Here's the unloading point." He drew a line to a tall structure in the center of the base. "Not too far from the building housing the shield generator. If they can disable it, we should be able to insert strike force using your ships, perhaps put some feet on the ground faster by orbital insert." Then Morra pointed at various red square. "These are AA emplacements. If you can take them from orbit once the shield is down, our life will be much easier. Some air support wouldn't hurt either." The Lesser Fang pointed at a series of hangars built around three long landing strips. "Those contain Ethereal fighters, scouts and the Advent air units tasked with protecting the base."

"Get the ship down, mark targets for orbital strike, put feet on the ground to disrupt the enemy's initial response and then insert the Strike Force and secure the objectives. It should work as long as our ship is able to fulfill its role. I'll run it past the captain, but unless the Ethereals send proper naval forces, the armed civilian ships they have left here to keep an eye on you shouldn't be a problem." Anderson thought aloud. "Sergeant, I'll be attaching you to Klaar's people to add some psionic punch. Make sure that shield goes down or you'll have to fight your way out through the base's whole garrison."

"Plan B? In case we die horribly and the shield remains up?" I asked.

"Not something you'll have to worry about."

"Actually, smuggling the Sergeant with our people might prove problematic. He can hardly pass for one of us. We'll have to insert our operatives in civilian garb as far as the city and ship their gear separately. I'm not sure that the cargo route would work." Morra said. "I'll check with command if that's feasible."

"Then Klaar will have to manage." Anderson conceded.

"He's one of our best men. While warlock support would make things easier, I don't believe command would risk one of ours on that mission." Morra stated.

"You don't trust us with such an asset." The Spectre noted.

"Do you have anything reliable on the facility's internal layout?" Anderson changed the topic.

"Reliable? I wouldn't bet my life on it, though we do have some data..."

 **=SF=**

 **The People's Rank structure:**

 **Lesser Claw – Lieutenant/Lieutenant naval;**

 **Claw – Captain/Lieutenant Commander;**

 **Greater Claw – Major/Commander;**

 **Lesser Fang – Colonel; Captain naval**

 **Fang – General/Admiral;**

 **Greater Fang – Marshal/Fleet Admiral;**


	19. Chapter 5 Parts 1&2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 5: A taste of things to come**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1**

 **Food transport**

 **En route to ADF base Prosperity**

 **Marnloow**

Sergeant Klaar stood in the back of along hover truck that had been carefully modified to have an unexpectedly large hidden compartment. A lot of sensor masking technology stolen and reverse engineered from the invaders, careful engineering and psi-dampeners built in the Claw's armors would hopefully be enough to get the transport through the front gate. Once inside the perimeter, the sergeant was confident that he and his men would be able to take out the shield generator or at the very least cripple its emitters. The initial plan called for using blaster launchers and indeed his Claws carried three of the weapons. However, Klaar and his last trooper had something better.

The large man closed his eyes and reverently patted the long, bulbous barrel of of the weapon supplied by the Humans. A fanged grin spread his muzzle into a sinister visage when he remembered speaking with his XCOM counterpart.

" _Boys and girls, your favorite holiday just came early. This..." the Human sergeant patted an armored crate, before unsealing it and carefully extracting a really big gun, "is the M-51 Cain." Veil had a toothy smile that would have made any of the People proud. "The Cain is your new best friend. Its a twenty five millimeter particle beam-high explosive weapon hybrid. It uses dust from eezo refining chambers subjected to extreme positive and negative currents to project a mass effect field through which it accelerates an Elerium alloy slug at 5 km/s. The field itself is so intense that not only shears the target and warp the hit materials with extreme force but disrupts shields and kinetic barriers before the payload hits. The nature of the field means that most of the energy is directed into the target so the Cain is safe to use by power armored infantry on anything beyond two hundred meters. The payload has selectable yield for those cases you wish to either avoid collateral damage or make sure that the bastards are really, super dead. The later isn't recommended for use at anything closer than a kilometer."_

Klaar actually purred as he imagined the havoc he could rain upon both Advent and Ethereals with this gun.

"Boss, I know you want to have the guns cubs, but leave that for after the mission. You're kinda weirding us out." Specialist Veern hissed.

The sergeant looked at the trooper. The poor boy simply didn't understand. The medic was kinda new to the Claws after all.

The truck slowed down and the soldiers went silent. Soon it stopped and the troopers froze. Thanks to all the shielding embedded in the hidden compartment, the Claws couldn't hear what was happening. If things went wrong, the first they would know it would be when the Advent started shooting at them through the walls.

Yet, this time the Ancestors were truly looking after them. After what felt like eternity, the truck continued driving. And Klaar relaxed a bit. He signed to the trio not carrying Cains to be ready – while they had blaster launchers just in case, those soldiers were meant to buy their comrades the time they would need to get out and line up their shots.

A few tense minutes later, the truck stopped again and the driver pressed a certain button. A green lamp lit up the hidden compartment and Klaar's muzzle stretched into a feral grin. The sergeant slammed his armored fist over a button thoughtfully covered by a plastic shield to prevent an accidental activation. The side walls of the compartment blew out thanks to built in charges and the Claws surged out.

An unlucky Advent trooper found himself on the way and was blasted away by a flying panel. Without any armor, the tall hybrid stood no chance. The Claws wasted no time and tore apart the handful of grunts milling around the entrance of the warehouse. Klaar barely noticed any of that. He was busy removing the safety of his Cain and looking for the tower. The Ancestors were with him again, because he didn't have to either scale the warehouse or go around it to find a firing lane. The tower was fully visible to his right, just eight hundred meters away.

Before someone could raise the alarm, the sergeant had shouldered the gun and taking aim. He laughed when sirens began roaring a call to arms a moment after Klaar pressed the trigger. His visor polarized an instant later, when the target vanished behind a flash of light. Then a second Cain roared and ensured that there would be no shields stopping the reinforcements.

"Phase two!" Klaar shouted over the comm. He was already venting the Cain's heatsinks and looking at the small map projected on his HUD. "Era, take the barracks. I'm hitting the hangars!" The sergeant ordered. He used the grappling hook built in his armor to get on top of the warehouse, before reloading the Cain. While the weapon was still hot, it was still good for at least two more shots if he left twenty second pause between them.

They had to do.

Klaar found his target – the hangars at the far end of the base and dialed up the yield. His Cain spoke again and his target was replaced by a rising mushroom cloud. While venting the weapon, the sergeant had just enough time to properly see his handiwork. Most of the hangar was simply gone with what was left being little more than smoking ruin. The Claw laughed in glee and acquired his final target. Klaar blew the second hangar away and jumped off the roof before some lucky bastard or defense emplacement awoke enough to nail him.

Before he hit the ground, the sergeant saw two more mushroom clouds rising from the direction of the barracks.

"Phase three!" Klaar ordered. He folded the Cain into its portable form and stuck it to the magnetic clamps on his back, before pulling out his favorite heavy plasma rifle.

It was time to cause some more chaos and general mayhem. It was going to be simply glorious!

 **=SF=**

 **Part 2**

 **Airspace**

 **ADF base Prosperity**

 **Marnloow**

Seeing an Advent base for the first time – it was painfully familiar. The buildings lacked square angles and instead were rounded resembling half-spehres instead the more familiar squares favored by humans, yet the layout of the base was something I've seen many times before; hangars, barracks, armor park, warehouses and various weapon emplacements. The mushroom clouds rising up from four separate places were familiar too – I've seen it back on Earth, though now the roles were reversed.

The novel sensation was my method of insertion – this was my second combat drop and the first contested one. When we inserted in the jungle a few days ago, the Advent were in no position to shoot back – their AA assets and aircraft in the AO were killed by the Rhine before they knew what hit them.

Today was different. While Klaar did better than expected – the shield was gone and I could see hangars and barracks burning, the defense emplacements were largely untouched. They were too spread out to be worth wasting the few heavy weapons the infiltrators could carry on them. That left me in the hands of my pod's VI and the equipment built into it. I was merely a spectator hurling towards the ground like a meteor.

While I knew what was supposed to be happening and despite my training, I couldn't help it but felt fucking terrified. There was just a thin sheet of Vahlenite alloy and a kinetic barrier between me, the ground and whatever the defenders were busy shooting at everything that moved.

The air above Prosperity was chock full with shards of metal reflecting radar waves, small decoys singing their siren songs to every targeting sensor in the area, empty pods that had bigger signatures than the real thing and multiple strike packages launched by both the Rhine and her brood. Thanks to the cameras built into my pod, I had a great view of what was happening. The night was lit up by plasma bursts and particle beams. Missiles roared from their emplacements and erased their targets out of existence. Saucer shaped fighters tried to lift off from their hangars before the Rhine's first salvo hit home and set that corner of the base ablaze.

AA shot back impotently before their operators re-targeted them at vulnerable targets. KKV and slower, but able to evade munition searched for the defensive weapons and more often than not blew them up in impressive display of pyrotechnics.

Then the first wave hit the ground – ten SHIVs – Rhine's whole still operational contingent. The automated killing machines wasted no time and headed towards the barracks and nearest AA emplacements. The next orbital strike hit and the Advent armor park vanished under more firepower that nearly wiped out Nagasaki and Hiroshima all those year ago.

Time was up. My bloodstream was flooded by combat stims prescribed by my assault armor's VI and my fear melted away. It was replaced by crystal clear awareness of my surroundings. I was jolted as the pod's anti-grav drive came to life and killed most of the speed. The thin shell surrounding me disintegrated by built in charges and I found myself in free-fall for the last fifty meters. My armor's sensors were busy marking targets and a thought was all it took to trigger my gift. It was enhanced by my implants and the amplifiers in my suit before I unleashed it. For a heartbeat I was enveloped by a purple halo before it discharged into six lance made by Psionic energy.

A particle cannon tracking my descent was cored despite its heavy armor and disappeared in the center of an emerald explosion. The upper half of an Advent trooper vanished in a flash of purple and a parked APC was turned into a blazing deathtrap before I was jolted by my contact with the ground. I wasted no time and triggered my jump-jets and used them to glide away from my landing position. It was a good precaution that was a second nature for anyone trained in combat drops. It saved my life too – a heavy plasma cannon slagged the tarmac behind me. I raise a hand and sent back a Psionic lance before throwing a smoke grenade. My location was obscured by silver mist that blinded most known sensors. That was a double edged sword – my own artificial eyes and ears were equally blinded.

I cut off my jets, dug my armored boots into the ground to stop and dashed to the right. The smoke was lit up by blind plasma fire, before the weapon emplacement ran afoul of an airstrike that took it out and leveled a nearby warehouse. The ground below my feet shook Rhine's next salvo arrived and wiped out what was left of the perimeter defenses.

"All Reaper elements, you're clear to proceed. Lancer-One, secure landing zones. God's speed." The Captain's voice sounded over the comm.

That was my cue.

"Lancer Actual to all Lancer elements. Secure landing zones." I ordered.

I had two squads worth of power armor who dropped with me. Now we had to make sure that Anderson could come in safely along with the rest of the platoon and as many of the Claws as he could cramp into the assault ships.

I glanced at the map in the corner of my HUD and sent a burst transmission to my men. They pinged me back with their locations and I busied myself with giving orders. Most of them were in good enough position, however a pair had dropped far away from their designated zone. I activated my jump-jets and glided to cover their sector while keeping an eye for any still alive Advent. Surprisingly enough, the opening stage of the op went better than anticipated. No one got blown to pieces during the drop, the above ground portion of the base was wrecked along with most of the enemy's heavy equipment and with a bit of luck Klaar and company didn't ran in the way of our orbital and air strikes.

Instead of relief, I felt apprehension. In my experience, most ops that started out swimmingly, tended to go to hell in short order.


	20. Chapter 5 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 5: A taste of things to come**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3**

 **ADF base Prosperity**

 **Marnloow**

Next five minutes were underwhelming – we spent them securing what was left of the base and making sure no one was left to resist our incursion into the underground levels. We shot the handful survivors we found – we didn't have the people to watch over prisoners nor the inclination to take any. Once I might have found the very idea unacceptable, however my stint as an alien captive had cured me from any such sentiments.

On a brighter note, Klaar and his Claws were all in one piece and out hunting for any Advent playing possum. After two decades of occupation, they loathed the Ethereals and their pawns as much as we did. Perhaps a bit more considering that their war was still ongoing.

Finally Anderson and company arrived. Even with top of the line stealth systems, we couldn't risk our drop-ships coming too close to Prosperity's sensor net before the attack began. Unfortunately that also meant more time for the underground complex to be secured and for any soldiers in there to arm and armor themselves. Even worse, it was time for reinforcements from nearby facilities to head our way. At least that shouldn't be an immediate concern – the Rhine and her small craft were going to be interdicting everything heading our way. Still, we were on the clock.

"Strike One on me. Get those charges set up!" Anderson ordered after he jumped out of the transport carrying him. The lieutenant was wearing an assault armor just like mine with the only difference being his primary weapon – a heavy plasma cannon.

A squad of power armored troopers fanned out behind my boss and they sprinted towards a section of slagged tarmac to the left. We had no intention of kicking in the main door – making our own through the ceiling would be safer and hopefully would avoid some of the built in defenses.

"Lancers form on me." I ordered.

"Copy that, Lancer One." Corporal Quin answered. "ETA thirty seconds."

I glanced at my HUD and sure enough, the farthest two of my people would be here in half a minute. The rest were already converging on my position.

"Fire in the hole!" One of our few combat engineers shouted. A heartbeat later the sky was lit up by a poison green explosion – that was the signature of Elerium enhanced explosives.

"GO, GO, GO!" Anderson shouted and his command squad jumped in the newly made entrance.

Another explosion sounded, signifying that the rest of the platoon and their attached Claws had made their own entrance too and were storming in.

"Room secure, Lancer One, you're clear to proceed!" Anderson informed me and jumped after his command squad.

"Lancers, follow me." I ordered and went in the still smoking hole.

Things went well. The resistance was minor – just two squads in light armor plasma carbines; no real threat. Shepard got impressions of the facility's layout from a dying defender too, which was the break we needed. Six levels down and about a kilometer away: that's where we needed to go to reach the command center. The main obstacles barring our way were distance and the doors – which folded under our firepower.

As we headed down, I began feeling something despite the chemical cocktail in my veins taking the edge of my emotions. It was a pricking at the back of my mind.

 _It was familiar._

I shook my head and accessed my gift to scan the area. We were just entering a quite large open space filled with crates and lab equipment. According to the drones that went ahead the place was hastily abandoned by whoever was working in. We even got a glimpse of an overgrown cat in lab coat of all things vanishing through a door in the far end of the room before it slammed shut just as the tip of the scientist's tail cleared the way.

Anderson's squad led the way with him moving a few meter behind them. Six Claws followed in the middle of our formation and my people secured the rear. We either blew up the side passages we passe by or left the other two groups of locals to secure them in order to keep our way back clear. The Claws moved in from cover to cover and we followed in when things went wrong in true X-COM fashion.

My first clue that we were in trouble was the pricking in the back of my mind becoming a solid, almost tangible buzz. Then our point man – corporal Richards screamed. He was enveloped by a purple flash and fell on the ground like a doll with its strings cut. My training kicked in high gear and before I could even think properly I was drawing on my gift and using its power to shield myself. I knew our psionic operatives would be doing the same with the rest left to rely merely on their willpower and armor.

Then the wall on the left was replaced by a wave of emerald fire that engulfed half our people and thew me off my feet. It was only thanks to my psionic barrier that I wasn't covered by burning jelled Elerium – nasty stuff that could either burn or eat its way through most armors. It was only the power armor we all wore that saved most of us from fiery death or being shredded by shrapnel. However, even our suits couldn't do much against large chunks of wall and crates moving fast enough to snap bones and cause concussions.

"Contact left!" My redundant shout was echoed by the soldiers farthest from the explosion. They added suppressive fire to their answer too.

Spears of blood red energy came from beyond the demolished wall and I heard a pained scream. I spat a curse, rolled on my belly and pointed my gun at the incoming fire. There were fire, smoke and who knew what else obscuring my sensors and cutting the visibility to next to nothing.

That shouldn't have been issue for me or the other Gifted in the platoon.

It certainly was. When I tried to search for targets I hit a solid wall and my awareness bounced off it. The only thing I get from that experiment – beside a headache – was a smug sense of amusement.

One of the Claws roared a challenge and threw a grenade at the obscured enemy. The small ellipsoid froze a meter in front of the poor bastard darted back his way and then detonated in his face.

That wasn't good, I thought with detachment. I had the sneaking suspicion that if not for the stims in my blood I would be panicking right now. Instead of giving to that suppressed emotion, I raised a hand and focused my gift into a spear of blazing unstable energy, which I promptly sent downrange.

My attack simply stopped halfway through the room – right between Allister and one of the Claws. They had a moment to glance at the pulsating raw psionic power before it blew up and threw their broken bodies away.

I simply stare at Allister's smoking remains. I knew my lips moved – I don't know if it was in a silent apology or a curse. I felt someone's satisfaction then was enveloped by a purple corona and lifted in the air. Acting on instinct, I desperately drew on my gift and tried to disperse the foreign power surrounding me.

I failed miserably.

The next thing I know, I was laying on my face and everything hurt. There was metallic taste in my mouth and my mind felt sluggish. I could hear indistinct whispers in the back of my head, which came hand in hand with a terrible headache.

What the hell did just happen? I tried to turn around, which only succeeded in making my whole body flare up in pain. I screamed, then felt pinpricks in my arms and tights, followed by a wave of cool bliss. My mind cleared a bit and I felt a bit better. Lights blinked in front of my eyes and my HUD came back alive. It was mostly red designating major breaches in my armor.

Fuck. There was fight going on! I tried to stand up, to find my weapon.

What happened was a very large armored foot kicking me in the side and throwing me on my back. I groan escaped my lips after the air was driven out of my lungs. I attempted to blast the bastard with my mind, only to felt my Gift bounce back and I screamed as feedback poured raw energy in my head.

"So we meet again." A vaguely British voice sounded in my mind.

The pain got down a notch and I was able to think again. Barely. I blinked away purple spots that blotted my vision and stared at a tall, thin figure hovering above me. It had four arms – two longer, thicker ones and a pair of smaller, more delicate looking. The alien wore a red and black flowing robe above metal armor, though it lacked a helmet and looked down at me from a pair of blue, human eyes. Eyes that didn't belong on an Ethereal's face.

 **Part 4**

 **Underground complex**

 **ADF base Prosperity**

 **Marnloow**

I felt myself falling. A tunnel lined with pulsing veins flashed past me and I found myself drifting within a purple mist. My quickened and fear gripped my mind. I knew it should have been impossible with all the stims in my bloodstream, yet the emotion was right here – real, tangible.

A pair of eyes blazing with power appeared in front of me. I could hear buzzing, clicking noises followed by amused chuckle.

"Your kind passed their first test. Time grows shorter." A familiar voice echoed all around me.

Tendrils of power slithered through my mind and began probing. My defenses – both mental, implants and even my Gift simply shattered under the onslaught. All I could do was scream as my very soul was violated – slice up, dissected and examined by a being with in-comprehensive power. I could feel my mind, the very essence of who I was being cut open. Torn apart and then stitched back together by expert fingers.

"The next test is coming, human. The Enemy's return is night. Failure equals extinction or worse."

My whole world became a purple storm. Shattered, agonizing images were burned in my brain. Black forms with too many appendages sliced through the void. Humanoid figures screamed. They were torn apart, twisted and corrupted. Flesh melded with machinery to birth abominations. People tore each other to pieces in a doomed quest to apeace dark gods. Whole families sacrificed themselves with smiles on their faces. Others walked calmly to pods to be melted into biological slurry.

Worlds were torn asunder as titanic fleets dueled in the heavens. Stars died, yet the black forms were relentless. Endless. Unstoppable.

Suns died. Whole star systems were put to the torch.

The Enemy advanced. Implacable. Undeterred. Uncaring.

Reality itself was shredded by psionic storms large enough to blanket a whole galactic sector. Black ships screamed as their corrupted souls were torn into the abyss. Trillions screamed in agony and blessed release.

The Darkness watched. Waited. Bit its time.

The Enemy paused. Plotted. Adapted. Advanced again.

More worlds died. Species were erased without a trace as the war in heaven continued.

It was not enough. Brother turned against brother, father against son, a mother against her children. Even the Gift was corrupted. Re-purposed.

The war was lost. The Enemy could not be stopped.

The time is night. The Enemy was awakening. The Enemy was coming.

 **=SF=**

Jennifer was losing it. Being trapped withing a cocoon of psionic energy – unable to move, unable to access her Gift, unable to even scream… it the sheer crushing feeling of helplessness was slowly driving her insane.

The alien bastard that tore apart her unit turned around and looked at her. Behind it, the sarge dropped to the ground like a sack of discarded trash. The Ethereal glided towards Shepard and smiled.

"A vicious little thing, aren't you?" Anderson's voice sounded in her head, yet the tone, felt wrong. Condescending, mocking. It infuriated her and she redoubled her futile struggle.

Shepard felt grim amusement directed her way.

"So much hatred directed at the Batarians." Now Anderson's voice held a hint of interest. "You loathe them, don't you? Even more than you hate my people. How curious. How useful." Jennifer could feel the smile in that voice. It sent spices of fear through her mind.

Shepard felt pressure all over her head and then she was no longer alone in her mind.

"Yes. You will be quite useful, little girl."

Cold fingers began browsing through her mind and Shepard screamed. She felt them tearing and rearranging things. Something shifted to make place. Concepts, ideas and directives were shoved in her head, then purple tendrils began erasing any trace of the violation. Jennifer was vaguely aware of what was happening. She struggle, raged, screamed.

It was futile. She was already forgetting what was done to her.

At last the violation ended and Jennifer gladly embraced the falling darkness.

 **=SF=**

All David could do was glare at the Ethereal bastard who tore through his people. He helplessly watched the fucking alien mindfuck Veil, then Shepard, before discarding them.

The loathsome thing then floated until it stood in front of Anderson and had to gall to smile at him.

"Lieutenant David Anderson – the man in charge of this ill fated adventure. The one responsible for all of this." The Ethereal spread his primary hands and waved them over the corpses littering the floor. "You've trained all your life for this. Prepared the best you could." The smile vanished. "You aren't ready human. Time is running out. The Enemy is coming."

"Is this some sick game to you?" Anderson snarled.

"A game? Its been more than a million of your years since I could afford to play games, human." The Ethereal glared. "We'll test you again. Pray we won't find you lacking for a second time." The alien looked at Delkatar's spawned body. "Consider this second chance a gift to someone who succeeded when I expected him to die. Fare thee well human."

A flash of purple and then Anderson knew no more.

 **=SF=**

 **SSV Tokyo**

 **Wormhole transit**

"All system nominal. Shields are holding at sixty point two percent. Transit in sixty." The helmsman announced.

"Well done. Keep her steady." Captain Petrovsky spoke with a calm voice despite how he really felt.

Both the Alliance and XCOM navies were built for a single purpose - to protect humanity from the Ethereals and when an opportunity presented itself – bring the fight to the bastards. Its been a dream for every ensign and enlisted man who jointed the Navy that they would be a part of the old overdue reckoning. It had been something Oleg himself had been looking forward to. Yet, now that he was bringing his ship to achieve that very dream, he couldn't help it but felt nervous.

The simple truth was that no one really knew what the Ethereals had as a navy. Even if they once did, a century and a half was a long, long time. Well, he was going to find out firsthand.

"Weapons online. Targeting systems engaged..."

"Primary reactors at sixty percent. Secondary at twenty five..."

"Security teams in position..."

"Small craft ready to launch..."

"Battle net nominal…"

The captain paid almost no attention to the reports. They were largely redundant. Everyone had gone over the checklists before the transit even started and Oleg was connected to the ship's network through his implants and could monitor the status of his command directly.

Still it was protocol and helped soothe the nerves a bit.

The _Tokyo's_ nose touched the event horizon of the artificial wormhole. Its shields flared and drank deeply from the dreadnought's power-plants. An indescribable sensation passed through the ship as reality itself bended, time seemed to freeze and then the _Tokyo_ was emerging through a tear in space more than two thousand light years from the place it entered the wormhole.

Sensors swept the surrounding space, fighters and bombers shot away from their hangars chasing a spread of recon drones and then the dreadnought was hurling itself away from the doorway and opening the path for its escorts.

"Captain, we're being hailed. It's the _Rhine._ We're receiving a tactical update." The comm officer reported.

Petrovsky was already seeing the reports unfolding in front of his eyes courtesy of his ship's primary AI. The tactical display lit up as frigates, destroyers and cruisers passed through the wormhole and headed for their designated positions in the formation.

"Psionic disturbance straight ahead!" The sensor operator shouted.

Oleg froze as a new window opened in front of his eyes and he saw a purple vortex unfold a light second in front of his fleet. It vague resembled an impossibly huge flower opening its petals. The psionic construct pulsed, contracted and then vanished as suddenly as it appeared.

The tactical display blinked and updated again. A ship third again larger than the _Tokyo_ stood had replaced the anomaly. It was surrounded by scores of escorts, each of them at least as large as an Alliance cruiser. At least two hundred frigate sized vessels were moving forward in seven strong packs followed by saucer shaped fighters.

"Case X-1 is now in effect. Purge all Class One data and above. The fleet will assume formation Delta-3." Admiral Duboa ordered from the flag bridge.

"I want forward shields at maximum strength. Give me a firing solution on the enemy dreadnought." Captain Petrovsky wasted no time and began issuing orders. "Concentrate sensors on enemy capital ships. I need tactical data, people."

Behind the _Tokyo,_ the rest of Third Fleet finished its transition and the various ships hurried to assume their places in the formation.


	21. Chapter 5 Part 5

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

 **Chapter 5: A taste of things to come**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 5**

 **CIC**

 **SSV Tokyo**

"Captain, we're being hailed!"

"Check for any surprises and if its safe put the signal through a stand alone system and patch it to the admiral and me." Petrovsky ordered.

"Scanning… No cyber attack detected. The signal is clear of psionic interference..." Klaudia reported.

A new holographic window opened in front of Oleg's face and his eyes bored into an image of an alien no human had seen alive for more than a century. The Ethereal was tall and thin, towering over a ring of consoles that surrounded it. A pair of bulky Mutton guards wearing heavy black armor could be seen standing at attention near a door at the back and even those two small mountains of muscle, weapons and armor looked short compared to their leader.

"Greetings, Humans. Prepare to be tested!" The Ethereal declared in a flawless English before cutting the connection.

"Sir, the enemy fleet is advancing. We're being pinged with LIDAR, radar and hyper-wave sensors! Their energy signatures are spiking." The sensor officer reported.

"Admiral, orders?" Petrovsky asked.

" _Tokyo_ and the heavy cruisers will concentrate on the Ethereal dreadnought. I want that thing dead ASAP. All lighter ships, target the enemy escorts. Fighters, maintain CAP. Bomber squadrons – keep back until I give the word… All units keep random evasive maneuvers within the formation…" Duboa began rapidly issuing orders. There was a barely perceived edge in her voice that Oleg recognized only because he had served under her command for the last two years. It wasn't fear, he heard. It was hungry anticipation, the same thing he felt. "The fleet is weapons free. Captain Petrovsky, you're cleared to engage once the enemy is in range."

"You heard the Lady. Weapons, status on the primaries?" Oleg asked.

"PACs are at eighty five percent charge and climbing. The lasers and railgun are ready to fire. We've got a targeting solution, though at this distance I can only guarantee Hades hits. They have enough space to potentially evade PAC and railgun fire." The commander in charge of _Tokyo's_ weapon system answered immediately.

"Fire when the PACs are fully charged." Oleg ordered. "Tactical, analysis of the enemy formation? Sensors, any observation of note?"

"We've got approximately two hundred and fifty enemy vessels, sir. Two hundred plus frigates, followed by thee hundred plus fighters are screening the larger ships. All enemy units with the exception of the small craft are of an unknown configuration. We're sweeping them with all active sensors, though all I can tell for sure is that their larger units appear to have heavy armor and power signatures at east equal and usually exceeding our equivalents..."

"The enemy fleet appears to be assuming a modified phalanx formation. It will give them clear forward firing lanes, though their flanks might be vulnerable depending on their weapon configuration…"

"PACs charged. Firing." Weapons announced.

Klaudia opened a new window in front of Oleg's eyes. _Tokyo_ shook for a second when her massive spinal mounted railgun sent a twenty kilogram slug downrange. For a brief second the deck plating below Petrovsky's feet shuddered, then twice more in a quick succession when the particle accelerator cannons followed suit. In contrast, there was nothing felt when the two x-ray lasers unleashed their fury a few seconds later.

"Hades strikes on E-1 confirmed. Analyzing..."

Oleg waited and watched the virtual representation of the slug chase two balls of compressed particles as they all raced through the enemy formation. In the last possible moment a cruiser equivalent flew in the path of _Tokyo's_ first salvo. The captain never knew if it was a fluke or deliberate action. In the end, it didn't really matter. The PAC's shattered whatever shields the cruiser had and the heavy slug went in unopposed. It hit the enemy ship slightly above the nose at a light downward angle and slashed through the armor to bury itself deep within the vessel's superstructure. The impact was more than sufficient to to shatter the containment system of the kilo of anti-matter that was the heart of the weapon.

The resulting explosion was more than enough to entice the cruiser's own ordnance and reactor to join the fun and the Ethereal vessel was briefly transformed into a miniature star. When the fireworks were over a few seconds later, there was nothing left but an expanding cloud of cooling debris.

"Good job, weapons. Now please hit that big dreadnought."

"Energy spike! E-1 is firing!" The sensor operator shouted.

"Brace for…"

The _Tokyo_ shook as if a giant had picked her and was attempting to shake off all the crew. The straps holding Oleg in his seat bit uncomfortably in his flesh when the shock of weapon's impacts attempted to throw rolling on the floor.

"Status report! What hit us?!" Petrovsky snapped.

"Shields down to sixty one percent… Spot failure at impact points. Ablative armor is gone and a third of the primary armor belt is compromised at sections seventy three and ninety one. Minor shock damage to energy distribution network at decks..."

Oleg ignored the rest of the damage report. Nothing vital, not yet.

"Tactical?"

"Fusion lances sir. Much longer ranged and more powerful than ours. Two hits and one near miss."

"Targeting solutions locked. Firing." Weapons interrupted.

"Are our primary lasers effective?" Petrovsky asked.

"Not really. E-1 has some kind of ablative armor too. We'll have to burn through it before dealing any real damage. On the bright side – their shields don't appear to be more effective against lasers than ours."

Which really weren't, however ablative armor and a meter or two of Vahlenite alloy could take a terrible amount of punishment from such weapons before being cut through.

The captain returned his attention to the tactical display. The smaller ships would enter their respective weapon envelopes any moment now.

"Weapons, ready all secondaries. Fire as the enemy escorts enter range. All PD systems are released under Klaudia's control."

"I'll handle everything they throw at us, sir!" The AI exclaimed cheerfully.

At least someone was enjoying themselves.

"Energy spice!"

The _Tokyo_ shook when Klaudia overrode the helm controls and set all starboard thrusters into emergency burn. A moment later the dreadnought shook again when a fusion lance struck her straight upon her heavily armored nose.

"Shields at fifty seven percent. Single hit. Armor is holding. Only forty one centimeters of penetration this time."

"Good work, Klaudia. Weapons?"

"Three solid hits, sir. Both PACs and railgun. Analyzing effect..."

The enemy frigates chose that moment to accelerate and hurl themselves at Third Fleet closely followed by a swarm of saucer shaped fighters. Their formation sifted and it became clear that they were aiming to come from above and below the fleet, while leaving a clear corridor for their bigger cousins to pour in their weapon fire.

"Frigate packs, you're free to engage. Fighters, remain on CAP and deal with any leakers. Destroyer divisions back up the frigates. All cruisers, refine your firing solutions and concentrate your firepower..." Duboa ordered.

Just a few seconds later, the light escort entered effective weapon range and tore at each other like rabid dogs. Lasers, plasma and chunks of metal accelerated to a fraction of light speed were hurled in all direction followed by short ranged missiles.

By the time the cruiser entered range thirty seconds later, it became painfully obvious that the human frigates were simply outmatched. The small ships were vanishing one after another with alarming speed. Even when aided by the secondary weapons of the cruisers on the fringe of Third Fleet's formation and the destroyers dispatched to help them, the light escorts paid with three of their own for every single Ethereal equivalent they managed to bring down. The bloodbath only got worse when the enemy fighter slashed through the fur-ball on their way to the fleet.

"All units, I want a Rapier strike on the enemy frigates. Put two full broadsides in them then implement fire plan Bravo Three." Duboa ordered.

"Bravo Three, aye." Petrovsky confirmed. "Weapons, two Rapier salvos at each frigate group, then proceed with Bravo Three." Oleg ordered.

The captain glanced at a window hanging to his left showing _Tokyo's_ status. There were already couple of dozen crimson needless stabbing through the forward armor. The Vahlenite belt held firmly so far, but it was just a matter of time before it was chewed up. Oleg certainly hoped that Bravo Three would be enough to put a solid dent into the Ethereal dreadnought before his ship experienced whatever the enemy had ready for medium range engagement.

Petrovsky returned his attention to the tactical plot just in time to see tiny blue dots explode from everything bigger than a destroyer and streak towards the enemy frigates. Hundreds of Rapier missiles under VI control hurled themselves at their targets. The smart programs were the only chance Third Fleet's frigates had to avoid friendly fire while being engaged in a point blank slugging match with their counterparts.

Despite all the chaos and confusion of that melee brawl, the Ethereal ships saw the incoming danger and redirected their point-defense clusters from carving up human frigates. Dozens of Rapiers were shot down before they reached their destination, at least ten had to deer off course or self-destruct to avoid slamming into friendly ships, yet still more than two hundred missiles reached a good firing positions and detonated. Six hundred bomb pumped lasers slammed into the lightly armored hides of the frigates. Shields and kinetic barriers were able to deflect only a fraction of the furious energy unleashed upon the vessels they were meant to protect. Ablative armor vaporized, then the Vahlenite alloy belt protecting the frigates boiled away and finally the bomb-pumped lasers bit deeply into the vulnerable decks of the small ships. Forty frigates simply blew up, with another thirty left as little more than drifting hulks.

Meanwhile, Human and Ethereal cruisers began tearing at each other with fusion beams and plasma cannons. Seconds later, missile swarms were launched from the two formations and the small smart weapons flew at their targets surrounded by the siren song of jammers and enticing decoys looking more dangerous and real than their more dangerous counterparts.

While the capital ships were busy exchanging fire, drones and piloted fighters clashed just above and below Third Fleet. The human CAP slammed at the incoming saucers greeting them with missiles, lasers and plasma. The Ethereal small craft returned the favor in kind using miniaturized fusion lance and small, fiendishly accurate missiles of their own.

"Captain, the enemy energy signatures spiked again!" The sensor operator reported.

The first Rapiers were about to reach engagement range when the Ethereal defensive fire tripled. The few missiles that made it through the plasma flack were woefully insufficient to seriously threaten ships protected by heavy ablative and Vahlenite armor.

"Captain, enemy flack is now intercepting PAC and rail cannon shells..."

Oleg zoomed in the tactical display and saw the PAC shot lose containment long before it could hit the enemy dreadnought. The mostly solid slug shot by the railgun was hit by enough plasma to deflect it or so it seemed when it anti-matter charge lost containment and it vanished as it blew up.

"Time to secondary weapon range of E-1?" Petrovsky asked.

"At present velocity – twenty seven seconds."

"Target E-1 with all secondaries that can bear on it. Re-target primaries on leading enemy cruisers until the secondaries are in range, then hit E-1 with everything we have…"

"Implement firing pattern Beta Seven in forty seconds." Admiral Duboa ordered.

The only good news so far was that the Ethereal fighters were mostly gutted when the CAP pounced at them. The human fighters and drones were a match for them and when the fleet's PD was added to the equation, the enemy small craft simply burned under all the firepower directed upon them.

The remaining frigates were holding their own too now that the heart of the enemy light escorts was torn off by the missile strikes.

The capital ship duel on the other hand wasn't going so well. The massive increase in defensive fire from the enemy heavy ships revealed an unpleasant reality – their PD was accurate and powerful enough to intercept both plasma and missile strikes. In order for those cruisers to be killed, their flack barriers had to be overwhelmed first and then there were their passive defenses to overcome.

In contrast, the human cruisers had to either evade or absorb the incoming fire. Their defenses were unable to reliably target the enemy plasma shots, much less the fusion lances. The later at least were an equal opportunity weapons – the Ethereals were apparently unable to intercept them either. Instead, they concentrated their fire on the human ships equipped with the weapon and they were being either disabled or outright destroyed one after another.

"All capital ships, keep twenty percent Rapier reserve until the last phase of Beta Seven. Commence rapid fire now." Duboa's strained voice sounded in Oleg's ears.

"This better work or we're in for it..." The captain muttered. "Beta Seven, execute." Petrovsky ordered.

Third Fleet's fire slacked for couple of seconds until new targets were locked in and then the weapons on every remaining ship erupted. The PD on the leading enemy cruisers were overwhelmed in seconds and they buckled under the onslaught. One vanished in a massive explosion. Another was literally cut apart by couple of hundred Rapier strikes. A third was gutted by fusion lances, then another died when _Tokyo's_ primaries slammed into it. It was only then, when the human dreadnought unleashed its own fusion lances and began carving up every Ethereal cruiser that came into range.

A hole opened in the front of the enemy formation, making a clean way to the large dreadnought in its center.

"We've got a clean firing lane."

"Fire everything!" Petrovsky's voice snapped as a whip.

 _Tokyo's_ launchers went into a sprint mode, launching missile after missile as fast as they could and the cruisers followed suit, all the while Third fleet continued to keep the way open by shooting to pieces every Ethereal ship that attempted to close the corridor.

It couldn't last. There would be mere moments before the enemy formation collapsed upon itself and denied the humans a clear firing lane.

Fifteen point three seconds to be precise. That was how long passed before the corridor was opened and the time multiple cruiser divisions maneuvered to close it. In that time all hell broke lose. At least two hundred Rapiers and hundreds of fusion lances struck the Etherial dreadnought. Two PAC salvos and a pair of rail shots went home too.

Cruisers, both human and Etherial died one after another, some left as shattered irradiated wrecks, others becoming short living stars and leaving tiny pieces of cooling lumps of metal where there huge forms used to be.

In the midst of that slaughter, the two leviathans making the heart of each fleet unleashed all their firepower at each other. _The Tokyo_ buckled and shook as fusion lances shattered her shields, stripped the ablative armor and finally cut through the Vahlenite armor belt to stab deep into the vulnerable deck below.

Mere seconds before the corridor could be closed, the Ethereal dreadnought unleashed a weapon no human had ever seen before. A single beam made of thick crimson energy stabbed through _Tokyo's_ compromised defenses and speared the massive dreadnought lengthwise. Her battered forward sections simply disintegrated under the colossal energy transfer and by the time E-1 stopped firing, the forward third of the human dreadnought was simply gone. Half of _Tokyo's_ remaining compartment were sealed personal crematoriums for her crews. Only Klaudia scramming the reactors in the moments before the beam hit saved what was left from the dreadnought from being blown apart by her own Elerium power cores.

Seconds later, the Ethereal fleet was engulfed by a purple vortex centered on E-1 and vanished without a trace, but not before gutting a third of the still operational human ships.


	22. Chapter 6 Parts 1&2

**AN: Some feedback will be appreciated. I ended up rewriting this part a few times and I still can't get it up to a standard I really like.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: A different perspective**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1: Fallout**

* * *

 **01:33, 15 September 2176**

 **Secure room A1**

 **Arcturus station**

"That's an unfortunate turn of events, Commander." Prime Minister Yamada stated blandly. Finally hearing the high points of X-COM's of the events at Marnloow, made Kelly feel much older. "We expected a better outcome if our forces encountered the Enemy again."

"We hoped for a better outcome, madam Prime Minister." The Commander answered calmly. "While our forces performed in a less stellar manner than some of the more optimistic projections called for, what happened was much better than our worse case scenarios. To put it bluntly, this is the first time we encountered proper Ethereal naval forces. We could have lost the whole fleet with nothing to show for it and that wouldn't have come as a complete surprise. We've come a long way in reverse engineering and improving the Enemy's own technology we captured during the war. However, we're very far from actually mastering it. We all know what happened during the war the few times the actual Ethereal military was deployed."

That reminder brought back nightmarish videos and AARs from the war. XCOM won exactly two of those eight engagements. It was good thing too, because the first was on the Temple Ship itself. The second was when an Ethereal platoon got their transport shot down on its way to XCOM's base in Ural, then ran afoul of a whole Russian army group without air support to even the odds. Still, they took out a whole mechanized division and two tank battalions before finally being pinned down and plastered.

"You are saying that we should be grateful for only losing two thirds of Third Fleet and having a dreadnought that would spent at least a year being repaired." Councilor Mi summarized. "Then there are the personnel losses..." Which were significant and as unpleasant as those in ships. Trained crews weren't cheap nor easy to train.

"Yes. Further, there are few details that the reports didn't mention. One of our ground teams encountered an Elder Ethereal." The Commander paused.

"We lost them I presume." Anita Goyle sighed.

"Not all of them. The survivors were let go to carry a message. The space battle might have been a test." The Commander reluctantly admitted.

"That again?" Howard Stanton growled. "What did they say, that the whole war was a test?" The European representative snorted.

"The only mention of the war was an indicated surprise that sergeant Veil survived it. We don't know if the 'message' was piece of psychological warfare, genuine or just the Ethereal's sense of humor."The Commander admitted.

"With the Enemy? It could be all of the above." The Martian Councilor grumbled. "Or none." Anita grumbled in frustration.

"What is the message?" The Prime Minister asked.

"That we're out of time. That the Ethereal's ancient enemy, the one they tried to prepare us for with the War would be coming soon. They will be testing us to determine if we're ready or not. Beside that? Sergeant Veil was given a vision of a war on a scale that makes our first encounter with the Ethereals seem like a children's spat." The Commander explained.

"Isn't that a cheerful thought. Is he compromised?" Mi asked."

"Unknown at this time. We've got some of our best people scanning him along with the other survivors." The Commander admitted. "They'll be in lock-down until we're damn sure they're clean."

"Recommendations?" Yamada asked.

"Further expand the navy. Devise counter-measures for observed Ethereal weapons and tactics. Create an actual alliance with the Citadel Council, failing that a separate one with the Turian Hierarchy. Eliminate possible distractions." The Commander stated.

"The Batarians you mean." Mi sniped.

"We can't have them causing trouble at the worst possible moment." Fitzgerald said. "However, we can't afford to engage into a full scale war when the Ethereals can be waiting for us to lower our defenses."

"I'll speak with the Appropriations Committee." The Prime Minister said. "I want options for neutralizing the Batarian Hegemony – both military and otherwise. What can we give the Council to bring them on our side?"

"Without being voted out of office?" Anita chuckled. "Probably not enough."

"We'll have to improvise then. I might have the beginning of an idea..." The Commander said.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **14:21, 16 September 2176**

 **Communications Room C**

 **XSV Kursk**

"Thank you for your report, Spectre Vasir." The Turian Councilor gave Tela a small nod. "What are your impressions?"

Tela Vasir gave Kiril Lorn a pointed look. They all knew that the conversation wasn't secure – not when she was on board a human ship and using their equipment for the transmission.

"We're aware of the implications. Speak." The new Salarian Councilor ordered without looking up from his omni-tool.

"The Ethereal ground forces are… formidable." Vasir grudgingly admitted. Her unit encountered only a single squad of their soldiers – all other resistance came from their Advent collaborators, which were manageable even if not something she would like facing when they were not caught by surprise. However those heavily armored Muttons as the humans called them…

A shiver ran up her spine and Tela was back underground in that Goddess forsaken lab.

The lithe feline woman leading the scratch squad Tela attached herself to was suddenly torn in two by an invisible assailant. Her blood splashed over a towering mountain of armor, rage and muscle that made the worst Krogan warlords the Spectre has ever seen puny by comparison. Such a beast should have never been able to sneak up to them unnoticed, much less close enough to kill their point woman in melee.

The sensors didn't notice it. None heard or saw a thing. They didn't sense its approach. One moment they were advancing after taking out another Advent strong point, then they were under attack. Only the tight quarters of the corridor saved them, because that beast had a lot of big, heavy armed friends. That and their likely belief that the monster in front would be enough.

It butchered five Claws while the rest ran. The sixth, a demolitions expert blew himself up along his killer, collapsed the corridor and gave Tela and the two survivors with her time to meet with another team. Just in time too, because the rest of the aliens simply blasted their way through and gave chase.

Vasir couldn't remember properly the firefight that followed. She had to push her biotics to their limits in order to keep herself away from fiery death. None of the people with her survived that encounter and they were able to bring down just one of the enemies – only after the damned thing absorbed enough punishment to slag a tank or three.

Tela had to run for her life again. Only a liberal use of biotic charges kept her away from the Muttons as the humans called those behemoths. She was a Council Spectre. One of the best the Citadel had. Among the most experienced too.

Yet, she had been totally outclassed by the Ethereal front-line soldiers.

Vasir shook her head in annoyance. This wasn't the time for PTSD, damn it!

"Can you repeat that, Ma'am?" Tela asked.

"More so than the humans?" Tevos did so and the subtle shift in her tone indicated her own annoyance.

Well, fuck you too, Vasir thought.

"From what I saw? Superior before taking psionics under consideration. The Ethereal soldiers had more advanced equipment, they were tougher. Much tougher. I can't stress that enough. We can't practically take them down with small arms." Vasir answered once she shook off the flashback.

It was left unsaid that as a matter of course the human ground troops had better weapons and armor, something that extended to their vehicles too. Even if the last point was so far merely an extrapolation based on the quality of their infantry equipment. The general consensus was that the Citadel armed forces could still prevail if only thanks to their superior numbers.

A potential war was going to be a pure bloodbath that would put the Krogan Rebellions to shame and no one in their right minds wanted something like that. The Ethereals on the other hand… They were much, much worse and that was before taking into account the horror show Tela found in the lower levels of the lab after human reinforcements from the fleet finally secured that cursed place. In her centuries as a Spectre, Tela hasn't seen anything that bad, though the handiwork of a few particularly deranged madmen came somewhat close.

"I should stress that I encountered only the Mutton – their heavy troopers. What else they have in reserve is speculation at this point. I recommend we revise our worst case scenarios about the humans and Ethereals alike up. Way up." Vasir grudgingly reported.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **Part 2: Picking up the pieces**

 **=SF=**

 **12:11, 17 September, 2176**

 **Site Gamma**

 **Location Classified**

"...enhanced sub-dermal armor. Huh. That's neat way to graft it to the muscles..." Dr. Vahlen thought aloud, while an auto surgeon was busy dissecting a mauled Mutton corpse. The alien brute had half its torso missing with most of the rest turned into a cooked and charred mess – not an ideal specimen. She had to impress to the troops that she needed more or less intact subjects, not some that were used for target practice.

Oh, how she missed the good old days! There were so many subjects and new toys to play with! It's been more than a century since she was in her element! It wasn't fair!

Moira smiled at the body being cut apart by the auto-surgeon. The Ethereals were back and that meant they were going to make up for all those years spent studying and refining boring science! She just needed a few fresh, intact specimens to study. A few captives too! It wasn't too much to ask for, surely?

"I believe you will find this interesting, Doctor." Sophia, the science AI slotted to aid Vahlen brought an anomaly to her attention. An area at the back of the Mutton's neck lit up on a hologram floating next to the operating table. It was of a standard alien heavy trooper and it was constantly being updated as the corpse was scanned and dissected with any new additions and anomalies being noted for further study.

"Huh. What do we have here?" Moira smiled impishly.

The auto-surgeon went to work around the anomaly. It was in one of the vertebra of the spine and the preliminary scans missed it, designating it as merely another part of the cybernetics that had replaced over fifty percent of the bones in the body. The rest were coated with some weird ceramic alloy making them incredibly durable – they were at least forty percent stronger than any similar treatment available to X-COM.

"Sophia, designate another high priority project. I want that bone coating replicated along with ways to use it." Vahlen ordered.

"Already done, Doctor." The AI chirped happily.

"Of course it is." Moira sighed. Sophia was terribly useful, though too often she was an irritating little bitch with delusions of grandeur. She had no passion for proper science!

The auto-surgeon whined as Vahlenite blades and a laser scalpel went to work cutting into the alloy spine of the dead Mutton. Gore flew and splashed over the containment shield surrounding the operating table, robotic arms moved in and carefully pulled out the odd metal vertebrae. They carefully washed it and brought it up so Moira could examine the oddity.

Whatever it was, it was fried, but it didn't look like it was from combat damage. Self destruct?

"Scan it and everything it was attached to." Moira ordered. "Get nanobot probes into the spine before cutting in further."

"On it, Doctor." Sophia promptly responded. "There are connections all the way into the brain pan and throughout the primary nervous system. I believe it is a redundant optical system guaranteeing faster reaction times as well as at least limited resistance against nerve agents."

"That won't help them when anything nasty reaches the brain." Moira frowned. "Ah. It's fully protected, isn't it? That's why we couldn't properly scan it through the skull?"

"The brain-pan is reinforced." Sophia nodded. "I can't be sure before we cut through the protection but I can confirm that the brain is isolated from the skull itself with a thin layer of shock gel and it has its own armored mesh"

"Why didn't they go for a complete cyborg treatment then?" Moira wondered.

"Not enough data."

Vahlen huffed. "Let's see what else is new."

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **21:15, 17 September, 2176**

 **Detention center**

 **The Hive – X-COM facility**

 **Australia**

Jack Harper steeled himself when he reached the interrogation room where one of his oldest and closest friends was held. Figuring that Henry Lawson was one of the engineers behind the Elysium attack was a heavy blow. Jack hoped beyond hope that there would be inconsistencies in the evidence proving that Henry was merely a patsy. All that time Harper was keenly aware that he was not only being investigated himself but command gave him enough rope to hang himself in case he had anything to do with that debacle. It all culminated in a seventy-two hours long interrogation using all the toys that X-COM had in order to clean him of any wrongdoing. The only silver lining was that for some arcane reason the Commander saw fit to let him continue lead the investigation once he was in the clear.

Jack still wasn't sure if that was a gesture of a good faith, a punishment detail for daring have a traitor for a friend or a test. Possibly all the above and more along with the hope that Henry might be more forthcoming with a friendly face... not that it was strictly necessary. As a traitor, X-COM's Counter-Intelligence division would be draining him of any and all knowledge he had about anything before he was sent to trial – if he survived the interrogation.

Harper sighed. There was no use of wasting any more time. He went to the control panel next to the door of the interrogation room and let the built in sensors scan him and confirm his credentials. The red light shining above the panel turned green once the scans were complete and the door unlocked with a series of loud clicks then slid into the floor.

Jack walked in after examining the room for a moment. There was a small metal table and Henry was chained to it. A pair of armed Mechs stood behind Lawson watching his every move – not that he could wiggle much as he was sat and bolted to an uncomfortable chair.

"Henry." Harper glared at his friend. "Just... what the fuck?!"

"Jack." The bastard had the temerity to actually smile. "I did what I had to."

"Really? You had to become traitor to Humanity?" Harper didn't bother to hide his incredulity.

"We got too soft and trusting of the Xenos, Jack. The Citadel species might not be the Ethereals but that's just because they lack psionics and the technological edge. Look me in the eyes and tell me we would be anything but an associate species under the Council thumb if it wasn't for our vast military and technological lead." Henry spoke earnestly.

"That's kinda obvious. What does that have to do with you selling out one of our colonies to slavers?!" Jack snapped.

"A reminder of how hostile the galaxy is to us, Jack. We can't hide and hope the aliens would leave us alone. We can't allow them to influence us either!" Lawson exclaimed. "We need to rise up and get our proper place among the stars of we will all suffer for it! What I did, I did it for Humanity! For our future!"

Harper looked in disbelief at his friend. He knew where Lawson's political views laid but this... Jack shook his head. Did he really know his friend? Not liking aliens, nor trusting them was one thing. That was why X-COM existed, to protect Humanity from any and all alien threats. That however was quite a bit different from the bullshit Henry was spouting. How the hell helping aliens kill humans served Humanity's interests?! What twisted logic...

Jack sat down and glared at his friend. This was going to be one long and frustrating interview, he just knew it.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **09:03, 21 September 2176**

 **Detention center**

 **Arcturus Station**

Cooling my heels for days in the brig, with only a short transfer between ships and endless test breaking the boredom got old fast. Apparently, there were orders from the Brass to keep me in the dark until a specialist could be spared to go rifle through my mind to check how much that bloody Ethereal messed up my head.

The waiting and uncertainty sucked balls. At least the MREs the security fed me was edible – more than could be said than some of what we had to eat during the war. However, given my situation, it wasn't enough of a morale booster.

I was ready to begin climbing the walls by the time an obscene group of fully kitted out guards came knocking.

"Sergeant, face the wall opposite the door." A modulated voice ordered. I did as instructed, the door opened and a pair of heavy armored guards secured me as if I was a Berzerker high on combat drugs. A whole squad escorted me to an interrogation room where they proceeded to secure me to a table bolted to the floor and then planted my rear in the most uncomfortable chair this side of history.

Then they just left me to stew. Fun it was not.

A few minutes later the door opened and a slip of a girl walked in. She looked no older than sixteen, though her uniform told another tale – she had oak leaves on her shoulders and a patch designating her as a high level Psionic.

"Ma'am." I greeted, straightened in my seat and glanced at my hands. "Unfortunately I can't properly salute, sir."

"I'll let it slide this time, Sergeant. Tell me all about your latest encounter with the Ethereals." There was a hint of amusement in her voice that was drowned by the sense of power it resonated with.

The room grew darker and all I could see were her eyes – they were beacons shining with unrestrained Psionic energy.

Without thinking I began telling the Captain everything she wanted to know. Purple flames danced all around me and I felt like falling into an endless vortex all the while her eyes shone with power and looked straight into my soul.

I blinked in confusion. I was back in the interrogation room staring blankly at the Captain.

"That would be all, Sergeant." She gave me a sharp nod and simply left.

The hell just happened?


	23. Chapter 6 Parts 3&4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6: A different perspective**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 3**

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **12 December, 2176 CE**

 **Human Embassy**

 **Presidium**

 **The Citadel**

A single engagement changed the course of history.

At least that's what everyone on the extranet blabbed about ever since the powers that be deemed me safe to release from confinement.

Fortunately, I missed most of that excitement. A month of tests, another of mandatory visits to the shrink and almost a third where they were strongly encouraged while I was stuck at Arcturus station after my return to Alliance space. At least I was technically on duty for most of that time – I was attached to one of the security platoons stationed there. On the bright side, I did learn a lot about doing the administrative side of my job. On the downside, politics reared their ugly head again and being stuck at a reasonably visible position didn't help my case.

I don't know who came with the brainstorm but soon after my second month of deployment at Arcturus began I got new orders that brought me to the Citadel.

That's how I ended in the Alliance Ambassador's office – one Donnel Udina, a middle aged man with dusky skin and short black curly hair. He wore a brown and white suit that looked quite strange to my archaic sensibilities. At least he wasn't as much of an eyesore as one of the other occupants of the room. That one was Executor Palin, a Turian wearing a weird suit with clashing blue, red and green colors. It might look great to alien eyes or perhaps it was because of my eye-mods but I found it hard to even look at his general direction. Occupant number three I was familiar with – a grumpy looking Tela Vasir stuck in a long elegant gown made of a silky stuff that reflected the light falling upon it making it sparkle. While it nicely showed up her figure, that thing had to be hard to move in, which was probably one of the reasons of her evident displeasure.

"You wanted to see me, Ambassador Udina?" I asked politely.

"Sergeant Veil." Udina sounded even sourer than Vasir's expression.

What bloody mess was I about to find myself in, I wondered while the Ambassador made brief introductions. I got orders to report in here the moment I arrived on the Citadel.

"For my sins," Palin began in the flagging voice typical for his species, "I just got saddled with you two." His mandibles moved in what I recalled was a sign of frustration.

The fuck?!

I glanced at Vasir, then looked back at the Ambassador.

"Sir?" I asked in a tone that I'm pretty sure conveyed how I felt. Seriously. What the fuck?!

"Politics at its finest, Sergeant." Udina grumbled. "After what you found out in the middle of nowhere, all hell has been breaking lose both here and at home. How much do you know about the political situation?"

"Only what I caught on the net when off duty. Inter-species cooperation is the future, closer economic and military ties with the Council, defensive alliance against the Ethereal is supposedly in the works."

"That's where you two come in." Palin's tone was almost identical to Udina's. Not a happy camper this one. "Someone leaked Vasir's presence during your operation on our side and your participation was never a secret as far as the Alliance was concerned." The Executor explained. "As a consequences people in both our governments believe that making you two very visible symbols of cooperation between the Citadel and System's Alliance would be an excellent idea." Palin glared at Vasir, who responded in kind.

"What are my orders?" I asked while trying to process what I was just told. What did they expect? That we would go out to make recruitment tours or something? Bloody speeches?! God damn it...

"We're here to hash out the details, Sergeant." Udina said. "We do have a few options..."

Vasir snorted and continued to balefully glare at the Executor.

"They want to stick us as liaisons to C-SEC and let us die of boredom." Tela spat.

"How would that work?" I wondered aloud. I was X-COM and had no law-enforcement training whatsoever. Perhaps if we were lucky enough to be stuck as a part of C-SEC's equivalent to SWAT units...

"Beat-cops." Vasir growled. "They want us to be a show for the tourists."

I stared at Udina who shrugged as if saying it wasn't his idea, just his problem.

"Just until you get acclimatized to not shooting or blowing up everything that moves." I wasn't sure if Palin was trying to be soothing or trolling the Spectre. "You'll get through a condensed version of certain C-SEC Academy courses and then attached to one of the more visible investigation units."

I think my brain finally processed what they were saying, you know after dismissing it at first as being a bloody insanity. Who the hell makes a Spectre and X-COM operative cops?! Okay, back in the Alliance there were X-COM cops policing all the psionics, but...

"What exactly is my role in this..." I fought not to scream insanity, "scheme, Ambassador?"

"You're going to be the face of Humanity, Sergeant. Congratulations." Udina said in a dry tone. He activated his omni-tool and sent me a message. Probably the written orders.

It took me couple of minutes to skim through them, while Vasir and Palin argued about what we were supposed to be actually doing. The orders were in order – right format and codes, and they did say that I would be on detached tour duty working with C-SEC for an unspecified period of time. So barring a disaster there was a hope it would be for just long enough for the furor to settle down. If I was lucky. I was to be under Palin's nominal command and would receive my day to day orders through the Spectre, who was supposed to actually obey C-SEC's chain of command. Oh, I would be attached to Vasir like a limpet if I got both the letter and spirit of my orders right; all in the name of inter-species cooperation and approval ratings for politicians unknown.

"Anything else I need to know about this assignment, Ambassador?" I inquired.

"Don't create a diplomatic accident." Udina ordered. "If this pans out, it will be good both for Humanity and the Citadel. As of this moment, I'm leaving you in the Executor's capable hands." The tone said: 'Don't dare fuck up or else!'.

"Understood, loud and clear, sir."

Why did that sound much easier said than done? I glanced between Vasir and Palin. The Executor appeared much more concerned that the Spectre would be stuck on his station for extended period of time than about the X-COM operative forced upon him.

"Ambassador Udina, it's been a pleasure." Palin ignored Vasir and turned my way. "Sergeant, Spectre, walk with me."

"Have a nice day, Executor." And just like that Udina dismissed us.

Why the hell I felt like I was just sold for political gain?

"Come, let's get this circus over with. Then we can go out and get plastered." Vasir muttered as she walked past me.

That sounded like a great idea.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **Part 4**

 **=SF=**

 **12 December, 2176 CE**

 **Foreign Minister's office**

 **Arcturus Station**

Walking inside her office, Erin Kurroka always marveled at the contrast. It was almost enough to give her a culture shock. Outside, the station was a typical Alliance design – utilitarian if somewhat tasteful, which was made possible thanks to technology looted from the Ethereals.

Inside, Kurroka's office provided a taste of Old Earth, a reminder why Humanity fought for, what it lost and most importantly, what it preserved despite everything the aliens threw at them. Replicas of relics from all over the world – both statues and paintings adored walls hidden by genuine wood paneling. If you didn't know better, it would be hard to believe that the room was within a station light-years from Earth.

Erin's only regret was that genuine relics weren't allowed on Arcturus. While the place was one of the best defended facilities the Alliance had, in a case of a war it was going to be a primary target. Too many relics of the past were lost during the Ethereal war to risk more, even for the office of someone like the Foreign Minister. Her predecessor actually tried it and the moment someone leaked the presence of a century old painting, Kurroka grimaced. Even years later, her office still caught flack over that fiasco.

The Minister went behind her desk and plopped into her sinfully comfortable chair. She pressed a button and soft calming buzz surrounded her as it began to massage her back. She let out a low sensual moan and finally relaxed.

Kurroka spent the last four hours on the comm negotiating non-critical details about a possible military alliance with the Hierarchy and it was exhausting. While the Turians were a breath of fresh air compared to the byzantine politics of the Asari and the various hang-ups of the Salarians, there were still various issues and that meant even more headaches for her.

Erin accessed her schedule and browsed through it. If it wasn't for her AI assistant she didn't know how she would manage. Perhaps she would have to be surrounded by an even bigger army of staffers who desperately attempted do deal with all the shenanigans that came with foreign relations between different species.

"Minister, we have an issue." Alaya, said AI assistant spoke in her soft motherly voice.

"Why every time you call me Minister in private, I'm in for another headache?" Erin whined.

"Because both of us are, dear."

"You don't get headaches."

"Says you. Our newest hero got shipped to the Citadel without receiving a briefing and instruction by our office." Alaya's tone became serious.

"What." Erin immediately shot up.

"I just got notification from Udina. Half an hour ago the Sergeant was in his office, met with Executor Palin and Spectre Vasir and they already left together." Alaya continued.

Most people seeing Kurroka snarl would be shocked – she had a galaxy-wide reputation of being sickeningly nice and sweet lady. "Whose idea was that? Who got him cleared to leave without hammering in his head what to do or not to do while stuck on the Citadel with the whole galaxy watching?!"

"Everything I can access on X-COM's side looks legit." Alaya hummed. "Their AIs claim no record of our office requesting to brief Sergeant Veil before his departure."

"You did sent it through proper channels?" Erin frowned.

"Yes. And there's no record in our system of such a request ever being sent."

"Michael's department?" The Minister groaned.

"I should have handled that personally." Alaya grumbled. "Of course it's his department."

"Do we have enough to do something about it?"

"Perhaps. He's likely to claim a human error by a staffer of his. There would be volunteers to take the blame."

"Remind me again, why do we have so many people wanting nothing to do with aliens working in the Foreign office?" Erin grimaced.

"So they can make our life harder. It was never viable to discriminate on that metric, not even in our line of work."

"Goddamn it." Erin sighed. "Arrange a conference call with Veil in our embassy on the Citadel. I'll be briefing him personally. Call Michael in here now."

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **12 December, 2176 CE**

 **Spectre Offices**

 **Presidium**

 **The Citadel**

Deep within the Spectre Offices existed a number of black rooms. They were meant for discussing everything that could never see the light of day. At least officially. The Spectres would never confirm or deny if all the rumors of what went on in there were true.

A pair of Turians in plain clothes walked in one such room to meet a Salarian who waited for them. They spent two whole minutes being propped by the best scanners the Spectres could buy or steal before internal security let them in.

"Bau." Saren Arterius, the bare-faced Turian greeted.

"Nihlus, Saren." Their young Salarian colleague smiled.

They took seats around a simple metal table covered with computer terminals and data-pads.

"Did you finally catch that ghost of yours?" Saren asked with a fanged grin.

"Not yet but I got confirmation she's human." Bau grinned. "I think I finally have a practical way to see through her cloak."

"Practical for us or mass deployment?" Kryik's fringe perked up contrasting with his extensive white facial paint.

"For critical facilities? Flooding them with Eezo gas might work. We can recycle it and the Asari at least won't mind. No, I have some toys I want to test against human cloaks and we might get the chance."

"Some of the Primarchs aren't thrilled at the prospect of an alliance with the Humans." Nihlus' mandibles drooped.

"The fools are either scared or angry. For too long we thought we were the uncontested military power in the galaxy. That made us complacent. I would argue that running into the Alliance and now the Ethereals could be a good thing in the long run." Saren argued.

That was an old argument between the two friends. Oh, no one could accuse Arterius of actually liking Humanity. However, he did respect them and saw the opportunities they represented.

"Still better than what's happening at Surkesh." Bau's cheerful expression vanished as if someone switched it off with the press of a button. "We aren't here to talk politics."

"What's happening to Vasir is political." Saren pointed out.

"It's well founded paranoia." Nihlus countered.

"I'll go with both." Bau interrupted them before they could start another argument and worsen his headache. "So who volunteers to keep tabs on her?"

"You love to sneak around and stalk people." Saren leveled a particularly sharp talon at the Salarian Spectre.

"Moi?" Bau put a hand on his chest and did his best confused expression. His huge eyes blinked at the Turians in heart-moving picture of innocence. "I have no idea what you're talking about!" The Salarian's voice pitched up in a righteous anger.

"My mistake." Saren grinned. "You prefer ghosts. Admit it, you're after that girl only because of her cloak."

"She has skills too!"

"And they tell me Salarians know nothing of romance." Nihlus smirked.

"Nah. See there!" Saren nodded at Bau. "Those are his scientist eyes."

"That's even worse." Nihlus nodded sagely.

"Should I mention a certain former Kabal girl undergoing Spectre training as we speak?" Bau smiled sweetly at the Turians.

"Unfounded hearsay." Saren answered a tiny bit too fast.

"Oh? Do tell!" Nihlus perked up and turned to look at his friend.

"There's nothing to tell!"

"I hear she's very flexible. So far her scores are actually better than yours were." Bau cheerfully added.

"Really?" Saren's fringe shot up.

"That's my line." Nihlus mandibles opened in fascination. "Bay, we need to get the kid under our wings and tell her all about this reprobate."

"Sounds like plan." The Salarian agreed and beamed at Saren.

"I hate you two so much right now." Arterius grumbled. "We're off topic. Tela."

"She's his girlfriend." Bau grinned at Kyrik.

"We just slept a few times to let out some steam. Nothing came out of it." Nihlus sighed. "What are we going to do about her?"

Bau sobered up. "Keep an eye on her at all times. There's a reason we requested a Psionic for a liaison from the Alliance, especially one with experience with Ethereal time bombs."

"He might be one too." Saren played devil's advocate.

"I'm more afraid of them making Tela one of their own. If Veil was compromised, X-COM wouldn't have let him see the light of day, much less keep him at Arcturus for a few months and then agreeing on shipping him here to play cop." Nihlus disagreed.

"There's that." Bau nodded. "One of you two takes first dibs on tracking Tela and stopping her if she blows up in our faces. I've got orders to shut down her status ready if it comes to that."

"Saren's the biotic. I don't fancy going toe to toe with Tela if she goes on the deep end. I've seen her handiwork firsthand." Nihlus threw his buddy under the bus.

"Thank you so much." Saren groused. "What about the human? He is a Psionic."

"Not the first, neither the last we'll have to deal with. One of the reasons he's officially here is to help C-SEC evolve procedures to handle his kind." Bau explained. "What we have in place is good enough to handle the worst of Asari Night Demons, but we still don't really know the full extent of what a Psionic could really do."

"We're to watch Veil too and take care to note how he uses his gift." Saren noted.

"We already do it to every human Psionic we know about in Citadel space." Nihlus shrugged. "That goes without saying."

"Look it from the bright side – the Council didn't can Tela over a suspicion so that should hold up for us too." Bau smiled brightly. "If everything goes terribly wrong you will at least help science!"

"I don't want to be experimented on. Even if its for science." Saren shook his head.

"I'll pass too. Especially when vivisection or dissection are concerned." Nihlus hastily added.

"Spoilsports." Bau's expression dropped.

"Salarians." Both Turians spoke as one.

"Barbarians!" Bau shot back and the bickering intensified.


	24. Chapter 7 Parts 1&2

**AN: For those wondering, there's a six month time-skip accounting for the beat-cop phase of Delkatar's and Tela's time with C-SEC. This chapter begins with their first "milk-run" case as junior detectives, which is anything but.**

* * *

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or the various X-COM games. They belong to their respective copyright owners. This story is not written for profit. I make no money from it. It is not for sale or rent.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: Citadel Blues**

 **=SF=**

 **Part 1**

 **=SF=**

* * *

 **15 June 2177 CE**

 **Insight Cyber-Solutions Warehouse**

 **Zakera Ward**

 **The Citadel**

I should have known better than to taunt Murphy. Six months of boredom, PR stunts and classes at the C-SEC Academy – I should have taken that as a paid vacation with some strings attached and enjoyed myself. Sometimes it was even funny – no one wanted to mess up with a short-tempered Spectre and Psychic X-Commie, which made for some hilarious encounters.

Instead, I had to bitch about how boring the whole gig was. Tela too, for that matter. She took this whole retirement but not quite going on with her bad, bitched even more than me, so I'm blaming her about this too!

This, was our first case as junior detectives attached to more experienced C-SEC agents, and it went south almost immediately. It was supposed to be a simple raid for suspected illegal drugs. Six C-SEC agents, one ERS Unit – the local equivalent of SWAT; that was more than enough people to secure one not too large warehouse for the forensics techs.

It went to hell ten seconds after we breached. We got in overconfident because all our sensors and my gift claimed that the front of the warehouse was empty and once we were all inside we ran right into an ambush. Flash-bangs, concussion grenades, overload charges – they were stuffed in crates covered by something that negated all our scanners. The initial explosions were enough to drain our shields and break our cohesion. It was only training and experience that allowed me to dive for cover the moment my senses got overloaded by external stimuli. If we were in full armour, it might have been different, however the only people in proper kit were the ERS folks. The rest of us relied on whatever could fit under plan clothes along with shields, biotic and psionic fields.

I hit the ground, rolled and froze when a stasis field slammed into me. That left me a few moments to curse my luck while maintaining a thick psionic barrier around myself as concealed hostiles poured gun and _laser_ fire into my frozen form. The later was a nasty surprise – the Citadel wasn't supposed to have infantry scale laser tech yet, the mutual defence treaty with them was yet to be ratified by Parliament on Arcturus Station and all Citadel governments.

The more concerning part was that I couldn't feel the minds of our attackers. Mechs? We didn't detect any and that was a rude surprise, because we had top of the line Spectre gear thanks to Vasir. We should have been able to detect at least some signs of trap, but by that same logic, we should have found the improvised minefield we walked into. A few months playing cops made us fat and dumb – we wouldn't have walked into such an ambush before that. We wouldn't have breached the warehouse from the front before either.

The hell I was rambling about in the middle of a shoot-out? Did I get a concussion or something? Huh. That was actually likely after taking a face full of flash-bang and concussion grenades. In fact I was feeling too damn calm considering that people were shooting at me and my team.

I focused on my gift and opened the floodgates. Power rushed through into my mind and flared through my implants. My perception sharpened and I bristled. There was a very subtle psionic field levelled over us. I'm sure it wasn't here before the mines detonated but now I could feel it clearly.

"Hostile Psionic!" I shouted. It was the only other thing I could do while under stasis beyond using my own gift.

Whoever the bastard was, they didn't appear to be particularly strong, however they were very, very skilled and insidious. It wasn't until now that I noticed that half the ERS team was down, one of the Detectives was gone – Merrek, a young Turian I met just yesterday, and another down for the count – Chelik, another Turian and Vakarian's newest protégée.

Vasir and the rest were pinned down and trading shots with our illusive assailants.

"Psionics!?" The Spectre cursed something in a dialect my translator didn't catch. "We need to break the ambush, our cover won't last. Can you take them out?" Tela shouted. She traded her SMG for a heavy pistol and her biotics surged around her leather clad form.

The stasis surrounding me finally broke, just in time for multiple Biotic attacks to fly my way. I glared at the dark interior of the warehouse and surged my gift in a tunnel then jumped in it. It was a bastardized, psionic version of a biotic charge that I came with after a particularly long night of drinking with Vasir during our second week as beat cops. It wasn't subtle, it wasn't beautiful but it worked. For a split second a purple tunnel formed between me and my destination. The purple surge of my psionics sheared everything they touched and I shot through the funnel made of my mind's energies. Just in time too, because the enemy biotics tore my former position apart a moment after I left.

The tunnel followed me and compressed around me in a raging sphere of untamed psionic might before it detonated and disintegrated everything in a two meters radius. The distinctive thunderclap of biotic charge came from the left and Tela splattered a humanoid form wearing some kind of adaptive camouflage over a tall stack of metal crates.

Finally, adrenaline kicked in as my gift shed the last traces of foreign psionics in my head. My enhanced eyes caught a hazy blur and all I could do was to summon a psionic wall between us. The hostile shot a stubby weapon at me and a ruby beam splashed over my purple shield. My response came without conscious thought. I dived out-of-the-way while summoning psionic spears which I threw at the figure. I was already rolling away before it dawned to me that even when it was just a few metres from me I still couldn't detect their thoughts. It had to be a Mech, right?

At least one of the psionic lances hit it and the distorted scream it bellowed simply had to come from someone alive.

I got up on one knee and slammed down powerful psionic field around me, while my arm pulled my Spectre issue heavy pistol and I levelled it at where I thought the enemy was. All I saw was a torn off arm with five fingers, red human blood and a trail leading deeper in the warehouse. The hell!? Even X-COM didn't have mental shields that could fully hide someone's presence at this range!

The unknown Psi-operative made their presence known again and a wave of unease flooded the warehouse and I was sure that terror would follow soon. I let the wounded hostile run and focused on the enemy Psion. They were very good in masking their presence and if there was anyone besides my team I could detect in the warehouse they might have been able to fool me. However, their buddies were invisible to my gift right now and when I focused more power in a search for a foreign mind, it became obvious where they were. Second floor, back end, where there was a dark office overlooking the warehouse. Very conspicuously no one was shooting at us from that nice elevated position.

"Vasir, make me an entrance in that office!" I shouted at the Spectre.

A glance confirmed she was very much alive and slinging biotics and a pair of ghostly figures that darted in and out of sight. Tela's only answer was to hurl an overpowered warp at the office that disintegrated a hole in its wall. I tunnelled right inside and the resulting backslash sheared walls and furniture around me leaving only the floor intact. Laser beams slammed at the dissipating psionic field around me and I tunnelled deeper in the office further wrecking it. Walls, rafters and document bins along with a leather couch tore apart around me and I finally located my prey.

She was a pretty young human girl wearing simple blue blouse and skirt. Her eyes shone with psionic energy and she had a laser pistol very similar to those we used back in the war aimed at me.

"Freeze!" I ordered and reinforced my words with psionic might that I crashed into her mind.

My mental attack tore through her defences using brute force. I was barely able to register their complexity before they simply unravelled and was in her mind. Her index finger froze just as she was about to squeeze the trigger again. All she thought about was fear and terror of failure. Searing light shattered her awareness I staggered from the backslash of being connected to a dying mind.

A lance of pain slammed into my head as the mental connection disintegrated. The girl collapsed to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut. Steaming blood leaked from her ears, eyes and nose confirming what I felt – her brain got fried by some kind of counter-measure. I shook my head to chase off the dizziness that came along the pain from the feedback and headed back into the fray. I could hear approaching sirens so backup was on the way. Below me, Tela got her heads on one of the cloaked people and tore their arms with her biotics before knocking them out with a biotic punch. I could see another nearby – that one missed a large chunk of their head courtesy of a warp I think. I scanned the warehouse from my vantage point but couldn't see any more of the apparitions who ambushed us.

"Tela! I wounded one and they ran that way!" I pointed to the left.

Vasir looked up, nodded and charged in the shadows. I surrounded myself with the power of my gift and jumped over the nearest stack of crates. The chase was on.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **Part 2**

 **=SF=**

 **15 June 2177 CE**

 **Executor's office**

 **C-SEC HQ**

 **The Citadel**

It was nice, calm and most importantly boring day on the Citadel. Crime was down a percent over the previous quarter, two whole months went by without any notable corruption scandals, no one got caught sleeping with the wrong people or... things...

For Executor Palin that was the closest he might get to the human concept of heaven before his day to join the Spirits was up. He liked boring. It meant there was no crisis to give him headaches, no politics messing his nice and orderly station and even the Spectre and crazy human shoved down his throat somehow managed to behave and not cause an intergalactic incident.

Life was good. He even finally caught up on all his paperwork for a change and might get to go home to his intended in time.

Entirely predictably, that's when alarms echoed all over the place. A heartbeat later, his Omni-tool lit up with a message.

Palin warbled a curse on his native Palaven dialect and accepted the call.

"Sir, trouble. Vacarian's calling backup and medics."

For a moment Palin's mind screeched to a halt. Vacarian was one of his most experienced and reliable people. A good and dependable Turian. This had to be serious indeed. Then he remembered that Vacarian was babysitting their potential headaches today.

"Get ERS rolling to their location now!" The Executor snapped. He paused just long enough to grab his pistol, which he had on a magnetic clamp below his desk and he ran out of the office. If either the Spectre or the human got themselves killed on his watch, he wasn't going to hear the end of it – to his shame that was the first thing that ran through his head. The next was concern, not only about Vacarian and whoever else was for them but over the situation. There shouldn't be anything on the Citadel that the grizzled C-SEC veteran, a Spectre, X-COM operative and their overkill of a backup couldn't handle. They had an ERS unit with them, didn't hey? Palin recalled giving approval for it last night.

* * *

 **=SF=**

 **15 June 2177 CE**

 **Insight Cyber-Solutions Warehouse**

 **Zakera Ward**

 **The Citadel**

It wasn't hard to follow Tela even if I had to use my Gift to keep up. In her anger, she wasn't particularly subtle and after six moths working together, the feel of her mind was familiar enough that I couldn't help it but be aware of her location at all times as long as I was accessing my power.

Currently that was unsettling. It was clear she had a bead on our quarry, yet hers was the only mind I could sense in our immediate vicinity. Oh, there were the odd signatures farther away, with vague sense of a lot of minds beyond the range I was concentrating on, yet I still couldn't sense our target. That was unsettling. The only people I knew of who could pull of such a stunt were the Ethereals when they ambushed us on the Cat's planet. If they had operatives on the Citadel...

That thought made me stumble. Why did I just assume that they didn't have agents here all-together? Perhaps they have been around lying low long before they attacked Earth. That was a chilling thought. Now that it occurred to me, it was obvious really. It was all but guaranteed that X-COM was aware of the possibility, nevertheless I would be raising that point in my next report, both to them and C-SEC.

But first, we had a one handed bastard to catch.

I went through a tunnel leading into a nearby building a few seconds after Tela dashed inside. This wasn't on any of our maps and our scanners didn't pick it up. Not good. Another ambush? Traps?

Vasir had similar idea and when she neared the end of the tunnel she released a massive biotic shock-wave in front of her. It was the prudent thing to do, because a moment later the mouth of the passage lit up in a deafening explosion that shook the floor. Instincts took over and I raised a psionic barrier in front of me but that soon turned out to be superficial – Tela had the same idea and her biotics were up to the task; the explosion still echoed when she vanished in a biotic charge.

I followed suit using my bastardized version and found myself in another warehouse. This one was mostly empty barring whatever held the booby trap and a bunch of old trucks parked in the far corner, near the exit. Vasir's mind was to the right moving fast and I took a moment to check the other side for any nasty surprises. I could see nothing – just empty space and stairway leading to a dark office similar to the one I wrecked earlier. Detecting no threats there, my head snapped in the opposite direction. Vasir was nearing the exit and gaining on a blur. A single armed one too.

This one wasn't going to get away. I focused, the world around me flashed purple and I channelled more and more power into a tunnel until its exit stood in front of the warehouse's door. Once that was done, all I had to do was to will myself forward and I shot through a vortex created by my own mind and imagination. It felt like taking a long step and being squeezed through a vacuum cleaner's tube. Then I was standing at the end of my purple tunnel and it collapsed around me before the power detonated into a cascade of psionic fury.

The hostile managed to skid to a halt just before he ran into my dissipating technique and for a moment he was out of balance. That was all Tela needed. She flashed forward carried by her biotics and tackled him into the ground. Vasir slammed a biotic encased fist in the back of his head and once she was pretty sure he was out could flash-forged heavy duty restrains.

"This could have gone better. You all right?" I made a sweep with my gift and then let settle into a barrier around me. I wasn't taking any chances until we got some proper backup.

"Just banged up. I'll live. You?"

"Head hurts, otherwise good."

"The psionic?"

"Some kind of safeguard fried her mind when I attempted to capture her." I winced. Experiencing someone die while in their mind was still one of the worse things I've been through and a hundred years of psionic knowledge and research did little to mitigate the side effects.

"This little fish might talk." Vasir picked up her captive and slung him over her shoulder.

"Let's hope so. I'm eager to figure out how he still hides his mind from me." With him, and now that he was in custody it was clear it was a him, knocked out, his mind should have been more or less open book, yet as far as my gift was concerned, it was just me and Tela.

"We'll figure it out." Vasir sighed. "We got sloppy."

I grimaced and nodded. That we did.

"Now we have to explain this mess too." I added.

"Killjoy."

* * *

 **=SF=**

Twenty minutes later, the whole place swarmed with C-SEC personnel and medics. We delivered our captive to one of the waiting ambulances and got it to wait for proper ERS escort just in case. Meanwhile we got ushered for a check-up by a bunch of irritated looking paramedics.

"How many didn't make it doc?" I asked a young Asari who got the short stick of treating me.

"One of the detectives is dead, another is in critical en route to Zakera General, and a third got his shoulder shredded but is otherwise stable. The last got lucky – only concussion and burned crest. Two of the ERS were dead when we got here and another two are en route to the hospital in critical conditions. The other two have light wounds and concussions but are otherwise all right."

"God-damn it." I spat. It was bad and it was only pure luck it wasn't worse.

"Vasir, Veil, get your assess over here!" Palin's distinctive voice cut through the noise of sirens. "By the Spirits, what happened here!?"

Yeah. How the bloody hell were we supposed to explain this one when we had no idea what happened!?


End file.
